


Operation Citadel

by fictionfrek101



Series: Rogue Love [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Character Death, Daddy Issues, Death Star, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Felicity just generally has issues, Frenemies, Friendship, brother issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:44:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionfrek101/pseuds/fictionfrek101
Summary: (Rogue Love Verse AU – NOT ROGUE ONE) Before Felicity Rhiaon met Luke Skywalker, she had her own story. A tragedy where she sacrificed family for the sake of the universe to steal the plans to the Death Star. But why was she chosen to lead Rogue Squadron? And what exactly happened on that fateful mission? This is the story of Operation Citadel.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is the background story of the theft of the Death Star plans from my AU verse called The Rogue Love verse. This is not canon to the events of Rogue One, only my stories The Long Way Home and Definitions of Home. I repeat, this is not Rogue One, but rather a version I constructed for the background history of my OC, Felicity Rhiaon, created based on the ideas that were known at the time of her creation (circa December 2015.) This is not Jyn and Galen Erso. This is not Cassian Andor, Bodhi Rook, or any of that. This is an original version based on some known facts, and all correct and incorrect predictions are coincidence (although I stole Chirrut’s chant.) I highly recommend you either read Definitions of Home or The Long Way Home if you’re interested more in the story of this world.
> 
> However, the main five humans do exist in this story and their equivalents are the following:  
> Jyn Erso = Felicity Rhiaon, Cassian Andor = Diego Nalto, Bodhi Rook = Riz Drayson, Chirrut = Ji-Dan Hayato, and Baze = Wen "Gunner" Arroyo. 
> 
> K-2S0 does not exist (sadly), and Galen Erso is not Alaric Rhiaon. Galen and Alaric are two very different characters, and if anything, I would say Alaric is more like Krennic. 
> 
> Basically, please don’t send me reviews telling me that I got XYZ things wrong from Rogue One. I’ve seen it, I know, and I chose to ignore it (actually this was supposed to go up before Rogue One but I didn’t finish in time.) Thank you for your understanding.

Operation Citadel

Prologue

* * *

No one cares about my story, only that of my husband. The funny thing though is that without my story, his would have ended under the twin suns of Tatooine.

Who am I? Felicity Rhiaon. Who is my husband? You don’t need to ask that; everyone knows the story of Luke Skywalker.

I see that light go on in your head. Oh right, Felicity Rhiaon, the Jedi’s wife. She’s a Jedi, right? No wait, she’s a pilot? Or was it a Senator? All of the above? Oh, who cares? She’s Luke Skywalker’s wife and that’s all you need to know.

I laugh, restraining myself for the millionth time not to lash out and harm you for reducing me to nothing but the fact that I’m the lucky girl who won her way into Luke Skywalker’s bed. A pretty piece of arm candy for the Jedi Grandmaster, that’s all I am, right?

My whole life, I’ve been defined by my relationship to others. I am not my own person. I am Important Person #27’s whatever. I’m the wife of Luke Skywalker. The mother of Rey Rhiaon Skywalker. The first assistant to Leia Organa. The victim of Darth Vader. The sister of Brendan Rhiaon. The daughter of Alaric Rhiaon. The commander of Diego Nalto, Ji-Dan Hayato, Riz Drayson, and Wen Arroyo, or “Gunner” as everyone calls him.

Oh, does that ring a bell? They were famous, weren’t they? Something to do with the Death Star? You commanded them?

Yes, I commanded them, that team which you call Rogue Squadron.

Now wait, you say, Rogue Squadron was a pilot team led by Luke Skywalker. How could you command them?

Yes, there was a pilot team named Rogue Squadron, and in fact Diego Nalto flew with them under the position of Rogue One. But there was a different Rogue Squadron before that, and another Rogue One.

Oh, now you get it. Yes, that’s right, Felicity Rhiaon, Rogue One, leader of the team who stole the plans to the Death Star. Of course, no one cares about the mission to steal the plans, only the story about how Leia was rescued and Luke blew up the Death Star.

What’s that?

Oh no, you don’t need to pretend you’re actually interested in the story. I understand that people don’t-

Well, yes, I can understand that there is an element of mystery behind it. It wasn’t exactly an easy mission and I wasn’t picked to lead the team for the usual reasons, but-

Are you sure? It’s kind of a long story.

Alright, if you insist, I’ll tell you my story. The story of Operation Citadel.


	2. The Rhiaon Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The history of the Rhiaon family and how the Skywalkers keep screwing Felicity over.

Operation Citadel

Chapter One

The Rhiaon Family

* * *

To understand why I was picked to lead the team to steal the plans, we need to go back to the very date of my birth.

I was born to a woman named Dinah Andromias, and a man named Alaric Rhiaon. Dinah came from a family who was very anti-machinery. They would do nothing they could not with their own two hands and considered owning droids as a form of slavery. I’ll admit they have a bit of a point, but that’s a debate for another day.

Dinah and Alaric met at a university on Onderon. Dinah was studying art and Alaric designing mechanical systems. Alaric had a brilliant mind for that sort of thing. Good things were in his future.

… Or so he thought.

Despite the wishes of their families, Dinah and Alaric married, and Alaric moved them to Coruscant where he got a job designing and maintaining the security system of the Senate Building. They got a small house in a nice district, with the whole artificial yard and white picket fence deal. A few years later, Dinah got pregnant and gave birth to a son they named Brendan. Brendan was a Coruscant name meaning “Prince,” the perfect match for our Coruscant surname, Rhiaon, meaning “Queen.” Father had always been big on the meaning behind names, his own meaning “Noble Ruler.”

So basically, Rhiaons were destined to be arrogant leaders from birth. Oh, well. A family could have a worse fate.

When Brendan was five, Alaric had worked his way up the management ladder, and was one of the head supervisors of the security system. A boring job to anyone but him, but it did provide a nice paycheck. Nice enough that Alaric and Dinah decided to expand their family.

Cue me, Stage Right.

Yes, Dinah got pregnant with me, and it was a truly wonderful, peaceful, celebratory moment. …Until two days later when the Separatists and Republic finally declared war, and thus began the Clone Wars.

I think it must have been stressful for my mother to be pregnant during a war, fearing everyday an attack on the Senate Building that would take her husband from here. But I’ll never know, because the topic of my mother was off-limits after her death. I know very little of Dinah Andromias, her personality, likes, dislikes, how she looked, how she sounded. I don’t even know if she would have liked me. I mean as a mother, she would be obligated to love me, but as my father later taught me, blood is ultimately meaningless. It’s the family you choose that matters, and my father certainly didn’t choose me.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Nothing bad occurred to my family through the duration of my mother’s pregnancy with me, but then it happened. The thing that would happen so many times in my life, I decided it was more convenient just to marry one, because one way or another they would find a way to get to me.

A Skywalker decided to screw up my life.

Yes, from the very day of my birth, the Skywalker family has been a plague on my life. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and daughter with an unimaginable depth, Leia is the greatest sister I could ever ask for, and Padmé Amidala is one of my idols.

But I swear to God, some of the stuff this family has put me through is ridiculous.

In this instance, it was making my father miss my birth. You see, once upon a time, there was an incident where Jabba the Hutt’s son was kidnapped, and Anakin Skywalker rescued him with his padawan, Ahsoka Tano, and Padmé Amidala discovered it was a plot made by Zero the Hutt, and… Well, honestly it could be a feature length HoloFilm and that’s not what we’re here to talk about. Basically, all you need to know is that Padmé Amidala ticked off a Hutt.

So one fine Thursday, eight months into the Clone Wars (my mother learned she was pregnant with me when she was a month along,) my father was working in the Senate Building on the security system, when bad things happened. The Hutt Padmé had crossed, hired a team of bounty hunters to break into the Senate Building, and take a group of senators hostage until the Hutt was released.

Fun fact: Both Padmé Amidala and Bail Organa were in that group of hostages.

Again in a story that’s not quite long enough to be a feature HoloFilm – maybe an episode of a HoloShow – the Senate Building went into lockdown, there was a hostage crisis, Anakin Skywalker was in the building, and Padmé Amidala had his lightsaber for some reason. (Those reasons became a little more clear thirty-one years later when their son revealed their marriage.) The relevant information is that my father got trapped in the Senate Building.

So naturally, I decided it was time to be born.

Basically I’ve been a difficult person who likes to mess with the people around me, since birth. Go figure.

I was three hours old when my father finally arrived at the hospital. He apologized to my mother for missing my birth, and Dinah assured him that Brendan had been at her side the whole time.

My poor brother must have been traumatized.

They named me Felicity because obvious symbolism. Oh we are so happy to have our daughter, what could we possibly name her to prove to everyone how happy we are to have her, and not be totally cheesy about it?

Then again, I named my kid, Rey because she was our ray of light and hope and whatnot.

Look, I had postpartum depression. Naming my kid Rey was a symbolic and meaningful gesture. Them naming me Felicity was just lazy.

Personally, I would have gone with Jyn.

Anyway, my father was so angered that he missed my birth that he became dedicated to finding an end to the war and having a stable government so he could raise his children in peace and we have a grand future ahead of us.

So, yes, he became an Empire fanatic. I can just imagine his elated reaction when the Empire was announced. I was two at the time, and thus have no actual recollection of the event, but I have the sneaking suspicion party hats were involved.

Oh, the Empire was grand and glorious. The war was over, jobs were being created, no more self-serving politicians squabbling while lives hung in the balance; we had peace.

Or so we thought.

Palpatine was nothing if not one cunning bastard. The propaganda was eased in so gradually and cleverly, the successes were grand, and the failures unheard of (literally, if something failed, it did not become public knowledge.) The thought of rebellion was a ridiculous one, for who could hate the amazing Empire?

And then the cracks began to show. Law enforcement became more militaristic. Public education had the tone of indoctrination (I distinctly remember thinking in my elementary school days that the Emperor was a God.) Taxes rose, and public funding was cut. Rules about dress code, piloting restrictions, and what could be reported in the media were created. Conformity was the key, and thus the mummers of rebellion began.

My father never saw the problems, no matter what he lost. He loved the Empire more than anything, and eventually that anything included his own family. It was that love for the Empire that would become his downfall.

…Well, love and a carefully aimed proton torpedo fired by his future son-in-law.

And yes, I did willingly and knowingly marry the man who killed my father. Don’t you judge me. I mean have you _seen_ Luke?

I think we’re getting off topic.

Brendan and I grew up under that fervent love of the Empire. We believed in it as much as Father. We knew that it would never harm good citizens like us, and we had no reason to doubt it.

And then Mother died.

No one ever bothered to tell me the name of the disease that killed her, all I know is that it was widespread on Coruscant one summer and easily curable. The only problem is that Coruscant didn’t have it in its health care budget to buy the cure… at least not until it was already too late for 1.3 million people. A small number for its population of one trillion.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the reason there was no funds for the cure was that part of the medical budget had been secretly funnelled into the top secret Death Star project that would change my life forever.

I also didn’t know (being five) but the death of our mother is what made Brendan start doubting the Empire.

I would be fourteen when I met the people who changed my mind about the Empire.

And it would be the death of my brother that caused it.


	3. Felicity's First Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaric gets a new job, Brendan gets recruited, and Bail gives a fourteen-year-old a blaster.

Operation Citadel

Chapter Two

Felicity's First Job

* * *

Growing up, my brother was everything to me. After the death of my mother, my father threw himself into work. Brendan always said it was because Father was so heartbroken over mother, but I could never ask Father about it. Saying the word "Mother" or "Dinah" was an offense bad enough to be sent to my room without supper. Mother was dead, and it seemed the only way for Father to deal with it was to forget her.

When I was seven, Father got recruited into some super secret weapons project. He didn't tell us anything about it, and Brendan and I knew better than to ask.

Our father was… a strict man. I'm fairly certain he loved us, but we weren't his top priority. He very much subscribed to the theory that the man is the head of the household and the disciplinarian. Brendan and I were mainly reared by a series of nannies (Father could always find the faults of a person and was very vocal when he did, so none of them lasted very long.) I could probably name four of the nannies if I really tried, but they blended together after a while. They were there to cook, clean, and make sure Brendan and I didn't burn the house down.

…You accidentally set _one_ couch on fire at age eight, and suddenly "Felicity's an arsonist who must be watched 24/7!" And Luke wondered why I never learned how to cook until he taught me. Then again, I did manage to set water on fire during one of our cooking lessons (there was oil involved.)

The nannies weren't there to be my mother; they weren't even there to care about me. I don't remember a single one playing with me, reading to me, or teaching me anything. Now that's not to rag on nannies, I think they do work if you get the right one. Heck, Luke and I had a nanny for Rey when I went away for a few months to get treatment for my postpartum depression (yes, it was that bad.) My point is that I did not truly have parents growing up.

But what I did have was Brendan.

Like I said, Brendan was my everything. He taught me to read, how to tie my shoes and dress myself, told me epic stories of the Clone Wars, and played both Stormtrooper and fairy princess with me (sometimes even at the same time.) He taught me to drive a speeder, had campouts with me in the yard complete with tent and campfire, and mended my first broken heart (Damn you, Farren Otorn from fourth grade.) He helped me sneak cookies before dinner, trained me in the art of sarcasm and messing with people, and taught me how to do my hair for fancy occasions (which is why 85% of the time a bun is my go-to fancy/professional hair style. This is what happens when you learn hairstyling from a man with four inches of hair.)

Brendan was my best friend. He was more a father to me than Alaric ever was, and continues to affect my life even long after his death.

He was secret in his dislike of the Empire; so secret that neither Father nor I ever caught on to his defiance during his lifetime. For all his rebelliousness and doubt of the Empire, Brendan was a model student. One hell of a pilot, Brendan was recruited early on to be a student of the Imperial Academy in the Future Imperial Cadets program.

The academy was on Coruscant, so Brendan was able to stay home with me (Father was starting to make more and more business trips.) Although scouted as a pilot, Brendan would have to be a Stormtrooper for five years before he could get into a TIE Fighter. Father was fiercely proud when Brendan was presented with his first set of Stormtrooper armor, while I just teased him over how hard it would be to keep clean.

But there was one thing I didn't account for when Brendan graduated from the Academy at age 19… I suddenly was going to be home alone. Brendan was shipped off to Mandalore to keep the peace as best he could (it was a miracle that wasn't the tour of duty that killed him) while Father was off at his super secret weapons job. I was a few months from my fifteenth birthday when Brendan got shipped out, and Father wasn't delighted with the idea of his fourteen-year-old living alone.

So his brilliant idea was for me to get a job.

… Yeah, somehow I had to find a job that provided room, board, adult supervision, and flexible enough hours for me to still go to school, because hey, I was kind of only fourteen.

Luckily, there was someone willing to provide exactly that.

I'm not sure how Bail Organa managed to get Alaric Rhiaon aware of the open position. Granted it had been tailored specifically for me to get it, but Bail wouldn't just walk up to my father and say "can I hire your daughter that I shouldn't know is looking for employment?" Yet somehow my father decided I should apply to be the assistant of Bail Organa's newly thirteen-year-old daughter who was trying to break into politics (I know it sounds ridiculous, but hey, her mother _was_ a Queen at fourteen.)

You see, although Bail genuinely needed an assistant for Leia, the job was specifically targeted to entrap me. The Rebellion had learned that my father's super secret job was developing a weapon called The Death Star. They needed a way to spy on him, and getting his Empire fanatic daughter (don't judge me, I was young and didn't know any better) under Bail Organa's employment was the perfect way to do it.

Of course, the only question was, was I capable to do the job of an assistant?

* * *

"Deep breath, Sis," Brendan instructed with a smirk, rubbing Felicity's shoulder like he was a couch about to send his pupil into a fighting ring. "You can totally do this."

"Your brother's right," Alaric's tone was as formal and strict and prideful as ever. "Rhiaons are born leaders and can face any challenge. You walk right in that office and tell them, I am Felicity Rhiaon, daughter of Lieutenant Alaric Rhiaon, and you _will_ give me this job because there is no other more skilled person for this position."

"Father, it's a personal aide position, not marching into the front line of a battlefield," Felicity rolled her eyes.

Alaric narrowed his eyes, "Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

Felicity's posture instinctually straightened, "No, Sir."

"Good," Alaric warned.

Felicity knew not to look her father in the eyes. She stared straight ahead as Alaric opened the door to the offices of the Senator of Alderaan, and approached the reception desk. Felicity made no move to follow, waiting for her father to signal his permission.

Then she caught sight of Brendan barely containing laughter.

"What?" Felicity demanded.

Brendan snorted, "Fliss, I don't talk to my commanding officer with such formality."

"Well, is your commanding officer as terrifying as Alaric Rhiaon?" Felicity shot.

Brendan opened his mouth and then paused.

"Well… no," Brendan admitted. "… Huh."

"What?" Felicity frowned at the odd look on her brother's face.

"Well, you'd think with how afraid of him we are, he'd been beating us or something. But he's just kind of, well… difficult?"

"Difficult?"

"Well, I could say he has a stick lodged up his-"

"Brendan!" Felicity chastised.

"Sorry," Brendan grinned at her. "Well, now what?"

"Well, we've been saying well a lot," Felicity teased, "so I think we need to stop."

"Well, it looks like you're right."

"Knock it off," Felicity jokingly punched Brendan on the shoulder.

"Make me, Shortstack," Brendan suddenly grabbed his sister in a playful headlock.

Felicity squealed but couldn't hide her joy, "Brendan, let me go! Come on, it took me an hour to do my hair and makeup, don't you dare mess it up!"

At that moment the door suddenly slid open.

Alaric was telling Bail Organa, "As you can see, my daughter is a refined, professional, respectable, model-"

"Let me go, Brendan!" Felicity gave another teasing shout, unaware that her father and future employer had just walked in.

"Never," Brendan cried out in triumph, equally oblivious to the situation.

"Are these yours?" Bail Organa had a smile on his face, entertained by the grappling brother and sister Alaric Rhiaon had boasted such refinement of.

Alaric's face was filling with red, and it even looked like his eye was twitching, "Children!"

Felicity and Brendan looked up and their grins froze on their faces. Brendan instantly dropped Felicity and she landed face first on the ground particularly inelegantly.

"This is Senator Bail Organa," Alaric introduced, his teeth gritted so hard it might require dental work afterwards. He gestured to Felicity, "And the girl on the floor is my daughter, Felicity Rhiaon."

Felicity meekly lifted herself up and looked at her future employer, "Nice to meet you."

Bail chuckled, "I have the feeling the pleasure's going to be all mine."

* * *

While my introduction to Bail Organa was a disaster, my interview wasn't a whole lot better. Sure, I answered his questions well enough, but my lack of experience in anything really hindered my answers. But the worst part had to have been the last question he asked.

* * *

As Bail Organa sat across the grand mahogany desk from Felicity, she nervously tried not to twiddled the thumbs of her tightly clasped hands. Bail had taken a break from the questions to type a few notes into his computer. Felicity wanted nothing more than to grab and turn the monitor to face her so she could read all the comments which she knew had to just be multiple lines of "This girl is insane. Why am I still talking to her?"

"Alright, Miss Rhiaon," Bail turned back to his interviewee. "Final question."

Felicity immediately straightened her posture.

"Hit me," Felicity smiled wide, and then winced as the unprofessionalism of her words hit her. "I mean… yes?"

Bail chuckled, "Miss Rhiaon, you are fourteen years old. I'm not going to penalize you for not being professional 24/7. In fact, being that way would reduce your chances of getting this position."

Felicity frowned, "It would?"

"Miss Rhiaon, do you know what job you're interviewing for it?"

Felicity gave a sheepish smile, "Something about an assistant?"

Bail chuckled again, "Personal Aide is the official title, but that's not quite the job. Miss Rhiaon, my daughter, Leia is passionate about politics, but she is also very young. I can do whatever I can to help her, but I'm not always going to be there. What this job is, is to basically ensure my daughter always has someone looking out for her. Think about it like the Handmaiden of a Queen of Naboo. Do you know what those are?"

Felicity nodded, "Of course. I learned all about Queen Amidala in school. She was a glorious hero for the Empire."

Something froze in Bail's expression, "She was?"

"Of course," Felicity replied. "She made the vote of no confidence that put the Emperor into the position of Chancellor. Do you not know about her?"

"I know about Padmé Amidala," There was a hint of sadness in Bail's voice. "She was a colleague of mine, and a very dear friend."

Plus he was also secretly raising her lovechild with Darth Vader as his own daughter, but Bail wasn't about to announce that to Felicity.

"Leia is very fond of Padmé Amidala," Bail continued. "Perhaps you and she would find joy in discussing her."

Felicity shrugged, "I'm always up for some Padmé Amidala chat."

Bail looked at Felicity.

"Sorry," Felicity bowed her head. "I gotta get better at this professionalism. So, what were you saying about this job?"

"It's like a handmaiden of a Queen of Naboo," Bail explained. "Think of it as one third bodyguard, one third assistant, and one third salaried best friend."

"Bodyguard?" Felicity was caught off guard. "Like I'd have to take a blast for her… Not that that would be a problem but-"

"Leia does have security officers," Bail assured. "But if something does happen, yes, we would like you to be the last line of defense. Now, don't worry, we'll get you the permits and train you how to shoot a blaster-"

"Oh, I know how to use a blaster."

Bail looked surprised, "You do?"

Felicity jerked her head at the door to the reception area where Brendan and Alaric were waiting, "My brother taught me. He's a Stormtrooper. We've spent every weekend at the firing range for the past four years."

"Are you any good?"

"Well, I don't like to brag, but… You know what, that's an outright lie. I love to brag. I'm a heck of a shot."

" _Heck_ of a shot?" Bail said in what Felicity suspected was a teasing tone.

"I could have said hell," Felicity pointed out.

"You're learning, Miss Rhiaon," Bail chuckled and rose to his feet. He pulled his blaster from his belt and held it out to Felicity, "Here. Show me how good you are."

Felicity was stunned, afraid to take the blaster, "You're not serious? This is a government building and you're asking a fourteen-year-old to shoot something?"

Bail pressed the button to his intercom, "Sheltay, I'm having Miss Rhiaon demonstrate her blaster skills. Can you deal with any concerns from Security?"

"Yes, Sir," Sheltay, Bail's aide replied a minute later.

"We should be fine," Bail told Felicity. He thrust the blaster at Felicity, "Take it."

Felicity hesitated but accepted it. She took a few minutes to examine the blaster and test the feel and function of it.

"A good model," Felicity held up the blaster and pretended to aim at a piece of artwork hanging from the wall.

"If you like it, we can get you the same model," Bail replied. "There's permits we'll have to get you first, of course."

"Of course," Felicity lowered the weapon. "So what do you want me to hit?"

Bail looked around the room, "How about the bust of the Emperor over in the corner?"

Felicity nearly dropped the weapon, "Senator, that's treason! I can't defame the image of the Emperor!"

"It's the biggest inconsequential object in the room, it's out of the way, and it makes a good target," Bail pointed out the logic of the situation. "Besides, I didn't even pick it out. They issued those busts to every office whether we want one or not."

"And you don't?" Felicity was confused.

Bail gave a mysterious smile, "Who said I didn't? Now come on, I won't tell anyone you did it."

Felicity hesitated, "Alright, but just one shot."

"Show me what you've got, Miss Rhiaon."

Felicity took a deep breath and raised the blaster at the bust of the Emperor. Her hands shook slightly; a part of her was screaming that this was wrong. Yet oddly, even deeper down, a part was screaming at her that this was right. She took another breath and her hands steadied. She flipped off the safety, aimed the blaster, and pulled the trigger.

She hit the dead center of the Emperor's forehead.

"Well then," Bail grinned at Felicity, "I think this is going to work out very well for us. I just have to ask you that final interview question, and I want you to be completely honest with me."

"Shoot," Felicity placed Bail's blaster on his desk.

Bail asked, "Miss Rhiaon, what is your honest opinion on politics?"

"Well, they are a vital part of running our governmental system, and after much careful study of political theory and observation of the working man, we can really use them to better-"

"Miss Rhiaon," Bail interrupted. "Your _honest_ opinion."

"They are the most boring thing in the entire world," Felicity deadpanned.

"Miss Rhiaon," Bail held out his hand, "you've got the job."

Felicity's jaw dropped, "You're joking!"

"We'll work out the specifics later in regards to your education arrangements and travel expenses, but I think you'll be a very good foil and friend to my daughter, Leia."

"Oh thank you!" Felicity unthinkingly grabbed Bail Organa in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"You are most welcome," Bail gave a pat on her back, too amused by Felicity Rhiaon to point out for unprofessionalism. "Now, this isn't a done deal yet. Tomorrow there's a session of the Senate and I would like you to attend it with my daughter alone. That way we can see how you two interact without my influence. Just be yourself and show up here at Eight Standard Hours."

"Yes, Sir!" Felicity grinned. Then she realised her inappropriate hugging. "Sorry."

"Think nothing of it," Bail chuckled. "Now go tell your family the good news."

"See you tomorrow!" Felicity ran out the door.

A few seconds later he heard the commotion of what only could be Brendan and Alaric Rhiaon congratulating Felicity on getting the job. The reception area was filled with the chatter of the Rhiaon family for several minutes, and Bail patiently waited, sat at his desk, for the Rhiaons to leave.

"The Rhiaons are gone," Sheltay's voice came over the system when the reception area had gone quiet.

"Thank you, Sheltay." Bail then commed another officer, containing a Senator who was a close, personal friend of his. "Senator Mothma? I've got Rhiaon."

"Very good, Senator Organa," Mon Mothma congratulated. "We're one step closer to stopping the Empire and their terrible weapon."

"There's just one small detail we haven't settled yet."

"And what's that?"

"Whether Leia and Felicity will like each other."

There was a long pause, "Senator, are you telling me that the fate of the galaxy rests on two teenaged girls liking each other?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Force help us all."


	4. Meeting the In-Laws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity tries to take notes, meets her future father-in-law, and debates the probability of Bail Organa's office turning into a broom closet.

Operation Citadel

Chapter Three

Meeting the In-Laws

* * *

On my wedding day, Leia Organa was my Matron of Honour. It made sense, her being Luke's twin sister and my closest (and if we're being honest, only non-Jedi) female friend. At that wedding, Leia made a toast that began with the following:

"Though the groom is my twin brother, oddly enough I've known the bride longer."

There's obvious wiggle room in that statement; they did share a womb for nine months after all (although I think Padmé Amidala was only eight months along when she gave birth.) But yes, Leia was friends with me before she even knew her twin brother.

Leia and I did not have that instant chemistry or sense of comradery that Luke and I did (in hindsight it's actually quite ridiculous how long it took for Luke and I to figure out we were attracted to each other.) However, much to Bail Organa's relief, we did get along very well from the start.

He was right about Leia needing someone not all that into politics. That way no one was trying to influence her decisions based on their personal motivations, and Leia got a Yes Woman for when she went on her unstoppable political rants. It was very easy for me to just nod and say, "Sure. You're absolutely right" when she was going on about trade tariffs, and planets negotiating membership in the Galactic Empire. (Oh, foolish young me, why did you not pay more attention to those discussions? I know you wanted to be an architect, but it could have been so useful for the ten years you ended up being a Senate Emissary and negotiating planetary memberships into the New Republic.)

That test meeting Bail had me attend with Leia was terrifying though. The instructions were to walk from his office to the meeting arena, observe the meeting, and return to his office. I was so nervous; I was in charge of watching this thirteen-year-old (again, I was still only fourteen) and also somehow getting her to like me.

We got to the Senate Hall just fine, and I desperately tried to understand what the meeting was all about (no, I did not succeed at that.) Feeling like I was supposed to be doing something, I tried to take some notes. Notes that Leia still makes fun of me for.

* * *

_Meeting started at 9:13. Why start late? Is this normal?_

_First speaker, delegation from… somewhere. (Look up later.)_

_Trade tariff discussion. 14.37% interest rate. Is that high? Look up trade tariff interest rates later._

_Also look up what a tariff is._

_Lord Vader spoke up in favor of some invasion. Leia looks pissed._

_Vader is actually quite terrifying. He looks scary on the HoloNet, but in real life, hide your wife and children. Note to self, do not get between Vader and someone he's mad at. In fact, avoid Vader at all costs. Avoid Vader, anywhere he walks, anything he touches, and stay a parsec from anyone with Vader DNA._

_Does Vader have family? I thought he was a droid, but why would a droid need to breathe? Oh god, can you imagine if he had a kid? Note to self: if Vader has any Vader Juniors, move to the next galaxy._

_Another guy spoke. Was that an Ithorian? No, it was Geonosian. Wait, aren't they the bad guys? We fought them in the Clone Wars._

_I have no clue who is speaking now. Screw this, I'm just going to draw and hope no one calls me out._

_Note to self: burn these notes before Leia sees them._

_[The next seven pages of the notes are filled with drawings of various buildings.]_

* * *

I never did burn those notes… and definitely failed that whole stay a parsec from anyone with Vader DNA. (Especially last night… twice. Oh, Luke Skywalker, what do you do to me?)

But it turns out my nerves were all for naught. I was told later that Leia was in on the whole "spy on Alaric via Felicity" plan the whole time. Whether or not she liked me, she was going to pretend that we got along. I think she expected me to be a lot less easy going and a lot more Empire fanatic. Not that I didn't love the Empire at the time (again, I was young,) but I don't think she quite expected for me to do what happened that day.

* * *

"Which floor?" Felicity asked as she and Leia climbed into the elevator. They had waited nearly an hour to get in one, and most of the Senators had emptied out of the Arena and gone back to their offices, so the girls had the elevator all to themselves.

Leia was grumbling under her breath, and muttered at a slightly higher volume something than sounded like "evan." Seeing that Leia was not in a happy mood, Felicity didn't ask for clarification and hit the button for Floor Eleven.

Silence filled the elevator as it slowly rose.

"So…" Felicity awkwardly tried to make small talk. "Good meeting?"

That was enough to set Leia off.

"Just who does he think he is?" Leia exclaimed.

Felicity frowned, "Who?"

" _Vader!"_

"Oh."

"I mean what good is brute force? We should be talking to the Vrogem, not burning down their villages!"

"While I do agree, I do have to play devil's advocate for brute force," Felicity said as they reached Floor Eleven and got out. "Negotiating with my broken HoloVision set doesn't work nearly as well as giving it a good thump."

Leia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "But we're not talking about a HoloVision set!"

"Hold that thought. Where is your father's office again?"

"Three lefts, a right, and then the twenty-seventh door on the left," Leia wasn't even paying attention to their surroundings. She had been to her father's office so many times that she could find it in her sleep. "But seriously, we're talking about people, Felicity!"

"I know we are," Felicity groaned. "Look, if we're going to be spending a lot of time together there's something you need to understand about me. At least 80% of the words that come out of my mouth are sarcastic. The greatest joy in my life is when I can just screw with people, but I only do it when they're being stupid about something. Please don't make me mess with you over a sarcastic comment equating Vrogem massacres with a broken HoloVision set, because I will do it."

Leia actually did roll her eyes that time, "Forgive me, but I don't see the value in schoolyard taunts. Calling someone a nerf herder isn't going do anything."

Felicity gave Leia a strange look, "Not when you're calling them nerf herders. Alright, I see now why your father picked me for this job."

"You… You do?" Leia suddenly got worried. Had Felicity figured out their plan?

"Yep," Felicity wrapped an arm around Leia in a sisterly fashion. "You need to be thoroughly corrupted."

Leia let out a sigh of relief.

Felicity continued in her best academically renown professor at the best university on Coruscant voice, "I will take on this honour with the most serious of nature. I am not being sarcastic when I say this, but I will teach you the finest of mockery, the highest level of cynicism, and the greatest of insults! When I have finished with you, my innocent pupil, you will be far above the lowly taunt of nerf herder. When I finish with you, you will only feel shame at the thought of calling someone thing so juvenile as a scruffy looking nerf herder."

Several years later, Leia would reveal to Felicity that in a moment of anger on Hoth, she had called Han a scruffy looking nerf herder.

* * *

" _For shame, Leia," had been Felicity's answer as she solemnly shook her head. "For shame."_

* * *

Making their final turn, Leia and Felicity chatted as Leia counted the doors of the office.

"Twenty-five… twenty-six… and here we are!" Leia declared.

Felicity stared at the door, "Leia, I know I haven't been to your father's office a lot… but I'm pretty sure that's a broom closet."

Leia frowned, looking around wildly, finally taking in their surroundings, "Felicity, this isn't the right place."

"Hence the broom closet."

"No, I'm serious. I don't know where we are. Did you bring us to the right place?"

"Ok, one, I thought you were leading, two, I followed the directions you gave me, and three, if we're standing in front of a broom closet, clearly the answer is no."

Leia brought both hands to her face, loudly exhaling as she rubbed the bridge of her nose, "Okay, walk me through the directions we took."

"Twenty-seven doors on the left."

"Right."

"One right turn."

"Correct."

"Three left turns."

"Right," Leia looked around in utter confusion. "That's exactly right. What, did they remodel during the Senate meeting? Maybe we should knock-"

"Stop," Felicity held up a hand. "We are not knocking on the door of a broom closet on the off-chance your father's office magically turned into one in the past five hours."

"I just don't understand!" Leia exclaimed. "Three lefts, one right, twenty-seventh door on the left, Floor Seven!"

_Seven?_

"Oops," Felicity gulped.

"What?" Leia glared at her. "What did you do?"

"I kind of misheard that instruction."

Leia's face filled with horror, "Felicity… What floor are we on?"

"Eleven?" Felicity's confession was barely a squeak.

Leia's jaw dropped, "We have to get out of here, _now!"_

"What?" Felicity exclaimed as Leia grabbed her arm and started dragging her back to the elevator. "Leia, let go! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You don't understand, Felicity. We _can't_ be here!"

Felicity wretched her arm out of Leia's grasp and grabbed her by the shoulder, forcing them to a stop.

"Why?" Felicity demanded. "I made a small mistake. I'm sorry! But what is with all the theatrics!"

"Felicity," Leia whispered, looking around fearfully. "Floor Eleven is for elite Imperial officers."

"Elite?" Felicity frowned.

"Grand Moffs, the Grand Vizier, and worst of all-"

_Koo-Pah._

A loud mechanical breath echoing through the hallway froze their blood. Felicity and Leia looked at each other in fear, and slowly as one turned to face the source of the noise.

Darth Vader was standing at the end of the hallway.

* * *

Yes, the day I met my future sister-in-law was also the day I met my future father-in-law. Our relationship would be nothing like my relationship with Leia. If there is one person in the world I hate with an unbridled passion, that is Captain Phasma… though Darth Vader is a close second (although, I will admit Ben Solo is really starting to give Vader a run for his money.)

There is one point I will concede and that is he saved Luke's life. I am grateful, but that is not enough to wash away the sins he would commit against me and the ones I love. As I faced Vader in that hallway that day, I had no idea the magnitude of harms that man would bring me.

But even in that moment, I could sense what he was capable of.

* * *

Neither Felicity or Leia dared to move. They were alone, in a restricted hallway they shouldn't be in, trapped with Darth Vader.

"Leia?" Felicity whispered. "Do you think if we stand perfectly still, he won't see us?"

" _What?_ " Leia exclaimed as loud as she could in a whisper.

"I don't know. Some predators' sight is based on movement, I just thought, maybe-"

"As unbelievable as it may sound," Vader's voice boomed down the hallway, "my body is the flesh and blood of a human, with all its unfortunate limitations. But do not think I am not a _very_ powerful man. I wield more power than you can possibly imagine."

Felicity blurted out, "If you're so powerful, why are you in a life support suit?"

"FELICITY!" Leia screeched.

"What? I'm curious. How often do you get to ask Darth Vader what's up with the suit?" Felicity knew she had messed up but damn it, she was standing her ground. "It is life support, right?"

Behind his mask, the man that once was Anakin Skywalker frowned. He did not know what to make of the girl's question. It had been so many years since he encountered someone with that level of bluntness and devil may care attitude.

In some ways, it kind of reminded Vader of Anakin Skywalker.

No, he would not think of that weakling Skywalker. Not even when the Force presence of the girls felt oddly familiar.

But still, he admired this Felicity's pluck and saw no harm in rewarding it.

"Yes, it is a life support suit," Vader replied. "When I was younger and more naïve, I suffered injuries from a nefarious, despicable man who sought to corrupt those I may have cared about. I learned a hard lesson, and took great joy from correcting my mistake and ending that man's life."

And he absolutely would… Once he found Obi-Wan Kenobi, but hey, the girls didn't need to know that little detail.

Again that odd familiar feeling returned to Vader. Did he know these girls? He didn't know their names except the one girl's given name was Felicity.

"What are your names?" Vader demanded.

"Our names?" Felicity's mouth trembled.

"Yes, your names," Vader repeated. "I need to know if you have clearance to be on this floor."

"Oh, I can save you the time. No, we're not supposed to be here. I'm new and hit the wrong elevator button."

"I see."

"You know, you should probably have some sort of code you have to type to get to this floor considering how top secret some of the stuff in these offices are. My father could help you with that. He used to be in charge of the security system in this building."

"Is that so?" Vader replied. It wasn't hard to tell that he was glaring at them behind his mask.

Leia had her head in her hands and was picturing all the ways Vader could use to kill them in that moments.

Felicity however, was sticking to her gun. She flashed him her best smile and said, "So if you could just give us directions back to the elevator-"

"You didn't answer my question," Vader interrupted coldly. "What. Are. Your. Names? Speak quickly, or I might lose my temper."

"I'm Leia Organa and she's Felicity Rhiaon," Leia said quickly. While she fiercely disliked Vader, she was still young enough to have her fear of being in his presence.

Vader paused at the familiar names, "Organa and Rhiaon? Daughters of-"

"Alderaan Senator and Prince Bail Organa," Leia replied.

Felicity added, "And Alaric Rhiaon, Lieutenant of… Something with weapons. I don't know. He doesn't talk about it."

So these were the daughters of Bail Organa and Alaric Rhiaon. The Rebel Senator and the Death Star Mastermind.

"An odd match," Vader observed.

"I'm her new assistant," Felicity said. "My father goes on a lot of business trips now and my brother just became a Stormtrooper, and I have no idea why I'm telling you all this but there's something about you that makes me nervous and causes me to talk uncontrollably and oh dear God, please someone else say something or I'm just going to keep-"

"It's good to hear we have another fine young man joining the Corps," Vader interrupted, to the relief of the group. "More soldiers to help stamp out this Vrogem problem."

"How dare you?"

Felicity and Vader looked at Leia. Anger was flashing in her eyes; anger directed at Vader.

" _Stamp out this Vrogem problem?_ " Leia repeated. "These are living, breathing creatures who deserve respect!"

"The Vrogem are traitors to the Empire who horde kyber crystals, which are a restricted item!" Vader snapped. "They steal precious resources from the Empire and deserve no more respect than a quick death."

"So kill all traitors, is that it?" Leia shot. "Why not do something more cost effective and just enslave them? At least then you get free labour out of it!"

"Leia, now is not the time for sarcasm," Felicity warned.

"Tread lightly, Your Highness," Vader took a step forward. "Slavery is not a subject you should casually throw around me."

"So murder is fine, but slavery is wrong?"

"We do _not_ murder traitors. We execute them. There's a difference."

"No, there isn't."

Felicity looked nervously at Leia, "Your Highness, now would be a good time to back down."

"I'll never back down when freedoms are being stolen and innocent creatures are being slaughtered!" Leia exclaimed. "One by one, the Vrogem are losing their settlements and they're being forced to move to planets like Jakku and Tatooine with almost no Imperial oversight, and no protection. But then maybe that's a good thing. Maybe now that I've told you where the Vrogem are going, Tatooine's going to be your next target."

Vader laughed, which was a terrifying sound, "Princess, I would die before I ever stepped foot on Tatooine. Now I do admire your passion, but heed your assistant's advice and back down."

Leia looked Vader straight in the eyes (as best she could), "I will never back down until there is peace and liberty once more."

Vader was silent for a moment. What Leia and Felicity would give to know what he was thinking. It was too late for them to run, so all they could do was pray for mercy and hope Felicity didn't want to have to tell Bail Organa that one afternoon alone with Leia and she accidentally got her killed by Darth Vader.

Then Vader moved; he glided down the hall until the girls were a footstep out of his reach.

"You remind me of someone," Vader told Leia, his mind filling with images of Padmé Amidala. "A passionate woman who fought with everything she had to protect the lives of the innocent and the idea of peace and justice. And do you know what happened to that woman?"

Leia didn't dare make a reply.

Vader's words were cold, "I killed her."

Then with a raised hand, Vader took that last threatening step towards Leia.

Without thinking, Felicity stepped between Vader and Leia, her arm raised and tilted backwards to literally shield Leia from him. It was hard to tell who was more shocked: Vader at the thought that someone would dare challenge him; Leia at the thought that despite manipulating Felicity and barely knowing her, Felicity would still put herself between Leia and Vader; or Felicity at the thought that she had done it at all.

Yet despite the shock, Felicity did not yield her ground. She stood there, arms raised, looking straight into the lenses of Vader's mask, fear riddling her body, but obstinate of her challenge. The message was clear; if Vader wanted Leia, he would have to get through Felicity first.

Silence clung to the hallway, the three figures deadlocked in their choices, taunted by the question of who would move first. Then – to the great surprise of Leia and Felicity – Vader lowered his hand and stepped back.

"You two are certainly brave," Vader observed. "Foolhardy, but brave nonetheless."

It wasn't clear to even Vader why he chose to yield. Perhaps it was the girls' youth and naivete that moved him to mercy. Maybe it was admiration that they dared to challenge him, a feat few did these days. Maybe it was because he really didn't want to have to explain to the Emperor why he had murdered the daughters of a Senator and the Head Technician of the Death Star and come up with a cover story acceptable to the public. Maybe it was because both girls reminded him of Padmé in features and spirit. Or maybe it was that unshakeable feeling in the Force that one of them was important to him.

"Since you two are young, I will show mercy on this _one_ occasion." Vader warned, "But if you dare cross me again, if you allow this defence to blossom into rebellion, I will destroy you. Do you understand me?"

Felicity nodded quickly. She was scandalized by the thought that she had gotten on the wrong side of Darth Vader. It sickened her to think with how much she loved and adored the Imperial System, the Second-in-Command of the Empire now thought she was a rebel.

Vader turned to the unresponsive Leia, "I said, did I make myself clear?"

Leia's eye narrowed, unprovoked yet unyielding to Vader's tyranny, "Yes, My Lord."

"Good," Vader smirked behind his mask. He pointed behind him, "The elevator is down that way. You have two minutes to get off this floor or I will take action against your trespassing. And trust me, I _won't_ involve Security."

And with that, Vader was gone.

The hallway was quiet as Leia and Felicity stood frozen in the aftermath of their encounter with Vader.

"We should go," Leia finally declared.

"Absolutely right," Felicity still hadn't moved from her defensive position.

"Come on." Leia started down the hall but paused when Felicity didn't follow, "Felicity?"

"Leia… I can't feel my legs."


	5. Cracks in the Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bail is worried about Leia meeting Vader, Felicity is obsessed with soup, and Alaric has an uncomfortable rule.

Operation Citadel

Chapter Four

Cracks in the Foundation

* * *

As you can imagine, Bail Organa was terrified when he heard about our meeting with Vader. At the time, it was odd how paranoid he sounded. He demanded to know absolutely every word that was said, and a detailed play by play on how Vader had treated Leia.

Of course, years later, she and I would come to understand his anxiety. That had been the very first moment Leia had ever spoken to her birth father. I can only imagine the distress Bail Organa had been under when he was trying to determine if Vader had figured out he had sired the mouthy princess in front of him.

As you can _also_ imagine, Bail Organa was impressed with my little maneuver to protect Leia. Who knows what would have happened if I hadn't stepped between Vader and Leia? I remember Bail's reaction to the news that I had protected Leia. He smiled that warm, supportive, fatherly smile that I would never get from my own father, and simply said, "You've got the job."

So, I spent the next two years as Leia's assistant. I traveled frequently between Coruscant, Alderaan, and a dozen more planets. She didn't make the trips as a Senator; Leia wouldn't make her actual bid for Senator of Alderaan until she was fifteen, and I was long gone to the Rebel Alliance. Instead we spent that time studying Bail's politics, making political allies, and generally coming to understand how the galaxy worked.

And as I travelled from planet to planet, I started to see the cracks form. Yes, I was still a die-hard Imperialist, but as I matured I started to see another perspective. I remember having to constantly ask Bail to explain situations that seemed lack common sense. Why were there so many homeless people on such a thriving planet like Naboo? Why did the Senate vote on issues when the Emperor had the final say? Why was the most encouraged career path for young men and women to join the army?

Though the Organas were Rebels, they never revealed that to me. Sure, they would hint at it from time to time, usually accompanied by a mysterious smile and carefully worded response to shift the treason from themselves (see my earlier conversation with Bail regarding the bust of the Emperor.) Yet they never said anything directly to me. I still loved the Empire too much, and ergo, could not be trusted. But ever since I stepped between Leia and Vader, the Organas decided that somehow, someway, they were going to bring me over to their side.

It wasn't exactly ethical how they did it… at least not how they meant to do it. As I stated previously, Brendan's death would be the catalyst for my defection, but originally the Organas had a different plan. Essentially, they tried to win my loyalty through gifts and praise.

As Princess Leia Organa's personal aide, I had an image to portray. They gave me the finest clothing to wear when I accompanied Leia in a public capacity. They presented me jewelry and accessories that cost far more credits than I was worthy to wear. (Although maybe that's just a Skywalker and/or Amidala thing. You would not believe how much I pay for the insurance on the engagement ring Luke gave me.) On trips, I stayed in the finest rooms of the finest hotels and palaces, though they usually had a connecting door to Leia's chambers. We dined at five star restaurants, attended exclusive events, and Bail even hired the very best tutors for me to get my schooling (my father had worked out with Bail that I would receive a proper education and I had my lessons whenever Leia had hers.)

In other words, I had a very glamorous life between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. Far more glamourous than maybe a teenager should have, and I'm sure it did corrupt me in some areas. That, however, started to backfire as the Organas showed me the best of the Empire, making me think that it was a wonderful place with no issues whatsoever. So they doubled down on their other method of conversion.

It wasn't just through physical objects that I started coming over to their side. Bail Organa gave me something Father never would; unconditional love and support. At home with Alaric, praise was reserved for the finest achievements, criticism came with every conversation, and opinions were only given when requested. Perhaps that is why Brendan and I became so sarcastic; it was the only way we could speak our minds. It must also be the reason that now as an adult I do not put up with anyone's nonsense. If you are doing something stupid, or wrong, or evil, I will call you on it.

Bail praised every single one of my accomplishments, gave me constructive feedback only when I truly needed it, and constantly asked my opinion. I started to find my voice, and I started to find myself. Not some silly little girl who rambled like an idiot in front of important people and adored the Empire. I still didn't know who I was, but I was learning who I was not.

I had a strong bond with Leia. I never really got along with women for some reason, and I still don't, but I think that might just be because I've spent most of my life around men. Yet things were different with Leia. She had lost her mother the year before my hiring, and as such I found her looking up to me as a sort of big sister.

Despite our differences, we learned and matured together. We learned how to do our hair and makeup and how to dress for events, but we also learned politics, self-defence fighting, and how to stand up for ourselves. In an interesting reversal of our future roles, I was the one who often told Leia to back down or knock it off when she was getting herself in too much trouble, or even when she was just beating a dead horse.

We started fawning over boys around the same time, though certainly not over the same boy. Fun fact: Leia's first crush was my brother, Brendan. I can't blame her, he was tall, strong, handsome, had brown hair, blue eyes, an easy-going attitude, and a killer smile. But unlike Leia, nothing incestuous ever happened between my brother and I.

Much to Leia's pleasure, Brendan spent quite a bit of time with us. Whenever we were on the same planet together, Brendan would stay with us. Even when we were on Coruscant, Brendan and I would hang out with the Organa family rather than our father (though he was rarely on Coruscant at that point.) I would tease Brendan that he returned the crush Leia had on him, but he would laugh and point out that she was seven years younger than him and it would never work with that age difference (cue Leia later marrying a man _ten_ years her senior.)

Even though I couldn't figure out the reason, I knew Brendan was getting restless. He wanted as little to do with Imperial business as possible. I thought he was just tired after his tours of duty and wanted to distance himself from work on his time off, but it was so much more. I can't imagine the horrors Brendan was forced to not only witness, but commit as a Stormtrooper. One looks at those white armored people and see nothing but faceless oppressors. But not me; every time I see a Stormtrooper, I'm reminded that each one of those men and women were people like Brendan who were loved by people like me.

How many lives was he forced to take? How many brave acts of Rebellion did he stamp out? How many people did he harm for standing up for themselves?

As I travelled the galaxy, revelling in the glamour of the Empire, Brendan was wading in the hideousness of it. Starving people, homeless people, oppression, abuse, evil; and he was forced to do it to them. He would come home to me each time a little more dead inside. A little quieter, the bags heavier under his eyes, his smile drooping a little bit more, and looking me in the eyes a little less each time.

I couldn't understand why he was so sad. Wasn't the Empire enough?

But my father knew the truth; he knew the horrors of the Empire as well as Brendan. But Alaric didn't despise them as his son did, in fact he took joy in creating more.

Now, please don't get me wrong; I do _not_ think my father was a sadist. He did not see the construction of the Death Star as "yes, I love watching millions of people die horrible deaths and take pleasure out of it." Alaric saw it as a necessary evil, that a small sacrifice of millions was allowed on behalf of the betterment of trillions.

But I cannot share with you his thoughts and reasoning for what he did. I can't tell you how he justified to himself building that atrocity they called the Death Star. Father and I never gained closure on that issue. I never asked him for his perspective on the matter, and I have spent so many sleepless nights wondering about it.

I loved my father, but he wasn't a good father. As we spent more time apart, I became more of an object to brag about. "Oh yes, that beautiful, poised, respectful young lady who accompanies the Princess of Alderaan is _my_ daughter." He loved the image of me as this richly dressed, refined, sophisticated, Imperial loving, figure of power. Image was everything, especially as he climbed the ranks of Imperial power.

He didn't dare imagine I would ever embarrass him, and he certainly never imagined that I would betray him.

And I wouldn't.

He would betray me.

* * *

My relationship was my father started to fail the day I turned sixteen. Brendan was off on a tour of duty, and the Organas gave me the week off to celebrate on Coruscant however I wanted. My father was on-world, so using my connection to the Organas, I booked a table at one Coruscant's finest restaurants and told my father that I was going to take him out to lunch. I was earning a nice wage from the Organas and I was proud to finally be able to buy my father a nice lunch. He had been working very hard lately, and I thought he deserved a treat.

Father agreed that we would go for a nice lunch on my birthday, so that day I dressed up extra nicely. I wore a nice dress Leia had gotten me for the Naboo festival of light a few months previous. It was a little bit lowcut, but nothing that should have caused a problem. After all, I am not exactly a large chested woman, but I do noticeably have breasts, even if they're smaller.

* * *

"How do I look?" Felicity asked coming into the living room where her father waited. It had taken her over an hour to get ready, but she was extremely proud of how she looked. She had spent so much time and effort into getting her hair, makeup, and outfit just right. "Don't I look great?"

Alaric's eyes immediately went to the dress's neckline, "That's a little lowcut."

Felicity blinked, unexpecting the answer and looked down, "Oh, I guess. Sorry, I thought since my necklace is so large that it would cover enough."

Alaric said nothing but slowly walked over to his daughter. The scrutinizing expression on his father made Felicity straighten her posture and put her hands behind her back so he could properly examine her. Alaric frowned as he reached Felicity. He hooked two fingers under her necklace and lifted it to take a closer look.

It was a rule Felicity always despised. In the Rhiaon household, Alaric was allowed to touch his children however and whenever he wanted. He would never do it in a sexual manner, and he never struck them, but neither Felicity or Brendan could revoke consent. Alaric could, and had, adjust their appearance however he wanted. He pushed on their spines to straighten their posture, lifted their chins to make them look him in the eye, pushed down on their shoulders to force them to sit, and thrust up their jaws to close their mouths and make them stop talking. He took off their coats, jewelry, and accessories. He undid the styling of their hair, and wiped off Felicity's makeup if he though she was wearing too much. He removed and unloaded Brendan's blasters, and put on his army issued jacket whenever Brendan wore his civilian clothes.

Image is everything, he would tell them, and they would be the image of whatever Alaric wanted.

Years later, Luke Skywalker would ask Felicity why she had chosen to get her four tattoos. She would tell him that the letters _FN-2187_ on her wrist was to never forget her failure to save the child she attempted to rescue from the First Order. The Alliance starbird on her right shoulder had been forced on her by Imperials to brand her as a rebel. But the rest – the altering of the starbird into the crest of Luke's Rogue Squadron, the word _Brendan_ on her right ankle, and the words _Rey of Light_ over her heart – had been her way to gain agency over her body.

Agency her father disallowed.

Felicity bit her lip as Alaric analyzed the necklace.

"Where did you get this?" Alaric asked. "The Organas?"

Accusation riddled his voice. It never did sit right with Alaric when Bail Organa bought Felicity things Alaric couldn't afford. That wasn't to say Alaric didn't earn a lot of money, he had a more than decent paycheck. But what was the salary of an Imperial Technician (even if it was the highest ranking technician) next to that of royalty.

"I bought it with my own money," Felicity reported, choosing next to acknowledge her father's jealousy.

Alaric arched a brow, "And how much did you pay for it?"

The question behind it was clear; had she wasted thousands of credits on one piece of jewelry when she should be saving it for important things?

"Fifteen credits," Felicity answered. At her father's shocked expression, Felicity explained, "It's paste."

"Paste?" Alaric questioned.

"Costume jewelry," Felicity clarified. "Fake. Not real diamonds."

"I see," Alaric said coolly.

"I know, Leia would kill me if she found out," Felicity laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

Alaric made no response.

"So," Felicity looked down at the ground. "Is it okay?"

She felt a hand lifting her chin and she was forced to look in her father's eyes.

"What do we do during conversations?" Alaric prompted.

"Always look the person you're speaking to in the eyes," Felicity recited.

"Correct." Alaric removed his hands from his daughter and walked over to the closet to grab his coat, "You are allowed to leave the house looking like that."

"Thank you, Father," Felicity bit her lip. She wished he had said she looked as nice as she felt… or at least _had_ felt a minute ago.

"You're welcome, but next time-"

"I will run my outfit by you first."

Felicity caught her father's look.

"And I will not interrupt you," Felicity said quickly.

"Good," Alaric nodded. "Now, come. And wear your blue jacket, not the red one."

"Actually, I was going to wear the black one." Felicity caught his look again, "But if you like the blue one better…"

"I do," Alaric's answer was short.

He watched as Felicity carefully put on her jacket under his watchful gaze, and immodest black jack hanging hidden away in the back of the coat closet. There was nothing inherently wrong with the jacket, but the cost and suggestive cut of the coat had always made Alaric despise it. It was far too tight for his daughter to wear in public, and frankly Alaric didn't even want to know how much Bail Organa had spent on it. Honestly, if it hadn't been a gift from a prince and part of Felicity's uniform, Alaric might have just burned the thing.

"You're going to love this restaurant, Father," Felicity was saying. "It has the best roast leek soup in the galaxy."

"I didn't know you liked roast leek soup," Alaric's voice was as dry and disinterested as ever. It was always hard to tell if Alaric was genuinely disinterested or just had an odd tone of voice.

"I didn't until Bail took me to this restaurant and ordered it for the table. I'm not even kidding, I would trade my firstborn for a bowl of this stuff."

"I see."

* * *

Actually that statement would become hilariously ironic years later when I was pregnant with said firstborn. Between the third and fifth months of my pregnancy with Rey I craved that soup so badly, the entirety of Temple Village pooled their resources to bribe the restaurant for the recipe and make enough batches to feed an army for a year just to get me to shut up about it.

… Although that may have been because I threatened to used my power as architect to exploit the weaknesses of the buildings in Temple Village, and collapse (or at least cause some damage) to a few of those buildings.

I don't think they took that seriously, though.

I hope.

* * *

"Do you think it's very professional to refer to your employer, especially a man which such power as yours, by his given name alone?" Alaric helped his daughter into her coat.

"I suppose not," Felicity admitted, not daring to admit that Bail had insisted she call him that. "But honestly, Father, this soup is very good."

"Then you'll have to ask for it the next time Senator Organa takes you. However, we are not dining in that restaurant today."

"What?" Felicity exclaimed.

"I canceled the reservation," Alaric said flatly. "My daughter will not be paying for her own meal on her date of birth, and the restaurant is not in our budget. I've made reservations at another restaurant, just as fancy, but with reasonable prices."

Felicity looked at her father in heartbroken loss, "But… this was my treat to you. I saved up for this. I wanted to show you…"

"Show me what?" Alaric prompted when she trialed off.

Felicity shook her head, "Never mind."

"Then let's get a move on. A Rhiaon is never late, not even for a lunch reservation."

Defeated, Felicity sighed and followed her father out the door without putting up a fight.

She didn't dare tell Alaric that she wanted to show him she was finally good enough.

It was a hollow thought: she would _never_ be good enough.

* * *

Tensions had been raising increasingly with my father over the years, and my birthday lunch was only one of many times he broke my heart. But it was also the predecessor to the event that would finally break the bond between us.


	6. The Imperial Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia gives Felicity an unethical gift, Alaric causes a scene, and Vader stands up for his future daughter-in-law.

Operation Citadel

Chapter Five

The Imperial Ball

* * *

When I was sixteen, my father had finally earned a high enough rank to attend the most important Imperial event of the year: the Imperial Ball. It was a high-class event with food, drinks, dancing, and _everyone who was anyone_. All the Senators, all the Royalty, all the high-ranking officers, all the Grand Moffs, even Darth Vader and the Emperor were required to attend (a fact Vader every single year made clear he hated.) Leia had turned fourteen a few months previous, and for the first year, she was allowed to attend. With both Leia and Father on the guest list, I too was invited.

Since I had been on a trip with Leia the days before the ball, it was agreed that the Organas would bring me. I was obligated to meet up with Father during the event, but as he was possibly going to be staying out late and drinking, Brendan (who Father secured an invitation for) would take me home.

My birthday present from the Organas had been a dress for the event. I went in for a few fittings, but my last had been about four months before the event. It was gorgeous, navy blue, beaded, formfitting, and a sleek yet twirly skirt. It was strapless and came with a shawl of transparent blue gossamer.

* * *

"I look so beautiful," Felicity declared as she viewed herself in the full-length mirror of Leia's Coruscanti bedroom.

For events like the ball, she and Leia would get ready together, doing each other's hair and makeup. Felicity's hair was done up in an elegant bun with some shiny jewels adoring parts here and there. Her makeup was simple and eyeshadow was dark blue like her dress.

"I'm so glad you liked it," Leia grinned as she put the finishing touches on her own outfit; a simple and elegant purple ensemble. "The beading on the neckline took so long and it was hand done, so we were worried it wouldn't by ready in time."

Felicity grinned, drawing her attentions to the beading, "Well, it's really-"

And then she stopped.

"Leia?" Felicity touched the neckline that dipped down far enough to see the tops of her breasts, "is this lower cut than we ordered?"

"No," Leia shook her head. "It's exactly the size they measured four months ago."

Felicity frowned, "I thought it was going to show me off a little less well."

Leia shrugged, "Maybe you've grown a bit since then."

Felicity thought back over the past several months. Leia was right, she remembered having to replace parts of her wardrobe because puberty decided to make its final stand. Due to the way the dress was designed, her larger chest meant she wasn't about to fall out of her dress, but the neckline was lower than planned.

"Father's not going to be happy," Felicity fretted.

"Then wear your shawl around him," Leia suggested. "Look at yourself. You look beautiful, better than me."

Felicity snorted, "Yeah right, like I could ever compare to you. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if Padmé Amidala herself was your mother."

"Only in my dreams," Leia laughed. She glanced over at her vanity table, "Felicity, I got you a present."

"A present? Oh, Leia you didn't need to."

"I know, I know," Leia waved off as she retrieved a small box from a drawer in the vanity table. "But, I just wanted to get you a small something to show you how much I've grown to appreciate you and our friendship. Something to remind you that we're fighting for a better future."

Felicity smiled, took the box from Leia, and opened it. It was a necklace with a small, oddly shaped red pendant.

"It's called a starbird," Leia explained. "It's a symbol of hope."

* * *

It was the symbol of the Rebel Alliance.

At the time, the starbird has not the widely-known symbol of the Alliance that it is today. In those days, it was just beginning to establish itself as a symbol of the Rebellion. Only other Rebels knew about it, and it was how Rebels identified their allies. There were necklaces, earring, tattoos, rings, cufflinks, and a hundred more places the symbols appeared. To wear a starbird meant you were identifying yourself as a member of the Rebel Alliance.

* * *

"Will you wear it tonight?" Leia asked.

Felicity grinned, "Absolutely."

* * *

Giving me that gift was probably one of the most despicable things Leia ever did to me. Sure, I now cherish said necklace as a symbol of our friendship and my history with the Alliance. But Leia gave me that gift _before_ I had joined the cause. She had effectively marked her territory, claiming me for the Rebellion without my consent.

I walked into the _biggest_ Imperial event of the year wearing a necklace that screamed "I'm a member of the Rebel Alliance."

And I had no freaking clue.

* * *

"Shortstack!" a voice called across the crowded ballroom, and Felicity hated herself for automatically turning to answer it.

"You know, one day I'm not going to respond to that demeaning little nickname of yours, Brendan," Felicity scowled at the handsome young man crossing to room to her.

"Yes, but today is not that day," Brendan pulled Felicity in for a hug. "I missed you, Miss Fliss, my Little Sis."

"I will pay you never to call me that again."

"You don't have that much money," Brendan grinned and glanced over at Leia, who Felicity had been talking to. "You look great, Your Highness."

"Really?" Leia blushed. "Thank you."

Felicity shared a raised eyebrow look with Bail Organa, who had also been chatting with the girls before Brendan's interruption.

"You look very handsome in that uniform," Leia nodded to the standard Imperial military uniform he was forced to wear.

"Thanks," Brendan replied. "I think so too. Although you wouldn't imagine the arm twisting I had to do with Father to convince him to not make me wear that ridiculous hat. Have you guys seen him yet?"

"About an hour ago," Felicity shrugged. "Then Governor Tarkin wanted to talk business and Father sent me away. Honestly, sometimes I just want to know what their top secret weapons project is."

"Honestly, I don't want to know," Brendan muttered as a waiter came over with flutes of champagne.

As the men helped themselves to a drink, Bail looked at Brendan curiously. Bail had noticed how off the younger man had seemed over the past few months. Brendan just shrugged and took a swig of his champagne before returning his attention to his sister.

"So, I'm guessing that Father's the reason you're wearing a shawl in a room as hot as Mustafar," Brendan nodded to the fabric resting over Felicity's chest.

"Image is everything," Felicity quoted in her best Alaric Rhiaon impression.

"So is not sweating into a puddle. Come on, Sis, take it off." Brendan paused, his words replaying in his mind. "You know, Princess, I envy you."

"Why's that?" Leia asked.

"You never have any accidentally incestuous moments."

Felicity slapped her forehead.

"I stand by the sentiment, though," Brendan said. "The shawl's nice and all, but it is far too warm in here to wear it. Senator, can one of your bodyguards hold it for her?"

"Of course," Bail nodded.

"Fine," Felicity glared at Brendan. She took off her shawl and handed it to one of the guards. "Happy now? Father's going to kill me for kill me for wearing such a lowcut dress."

"Fliss, I hate to tell you this, but that's not lowcut." Brendan smiled, "Nice dress though. You like almost as pretty as the Princess."

Leia couldn't wipe the grin off her face, "Thank you, Brendan."

"Leia, stop flirting with him," Felicity ordered. "He's my brother. You don't flirt with a friend's brother."

"Why not?" Leia asked. "I'd let you flirt with mine."

Bail choked on his drink.

Felicity narrowed her eyes, "You don't have a brother."

"I _could_. I am adopted after all," Leia pointed out. "I could have a long-lost twin brother."

"Fine, you can flirt with my brother on the condition you set me up with your long-lost twin brother should one ever appear."

"Deal."

The girls even shook on it, neither of them noticing Bail Organa practically having an aneurysm in the background.

"I have to go," Bail said very suddenly. "I have to go talk to… Someone else."

Bail couldn't escape the conversation of Leia having a twin, fast enough.

"That was weird," Brendan observed.

"These events bring out the strangest in people," Leia replied. "I mean look at Vader over there."

The group turned to see Vader far off in a corner of the room, not even hiding the fact he was moping and watching the clock for when he was allowed to leave.

"Gods," Brendan laughed. "He looks like he wants to choke everyone in the room."

"He probably does," Leia said. "I'll give him credit, at least he's showing restraint."

At that moment, a woman approached Vader. She was a few years younger than Brendan, was tall, pale, slender, and had the longest, and straightest ice blonde hair Felicity had ever seen. She moved with the grace of a feline, and she carried a strange silver tube on her belt.

"Is that a lightsaber?" Brendan frowned.

"Don't be silly, Brendan," Felicity waved off. "Who is she?"

"She doesn't really have a name, but they call her Third Sister," Leia replied. "The best way to describe her would be that she's Vader's pet."

"His pet?" Brendan raised his eyebrows.

"They say she's his personal assassin," Leia explained. "She's been attending more and more events with him."

"Are they a couple?" Felicity asked.

"No," Leia shook her head. "I don't even think Vader knows what's different between men and women, let alone what to do with one."

"Then what is she?" Felicity frowned. "I mean, you don't exactly bring your personal assassin to events."

"She's part of a special team of Vader's called the Inquisitors," Leia answered.

Brendan shuddered, " _She's_ an Inquisitor?"

"You know of them?"

"I had the displeasure of meeting Seventh Sister once. I won't make that mistake again. Girls, do yourself a favor and promise me you'll _never_ cross an Inquisitor."

"Alright," Felicity shot a confused look at Leia. "But what do they do?"

"They're hunters. That's all you need to know," Brendan said shortly, looking at Felicity. That's when he noticed it. "Felicity… where do you get that necklace?"

Leia looked up sharply.

"From Leia," Felicity answered in confusion. "Why?"

Brendan looked at Leia oddly for a long time before saying, "No reason. I… uh… I have to go."

And with that, Brendan disappeared into the crowd.

"I wonder what that was about," Felicity frowned.

"Who knows?" Leia shrugged.

* * *

But she did know. She knew that Brendan Rhiaon had recognized the symbol, and that only meant one thing:

Brendan Rhiaon, son of the creator of the Death Star, had been speaking to the Rebel Alliance.

* * *

Image is everything was the very mantra of Alaric Rhiaon's life. He had never been enough for anyone. He wasn't good enough for his parents, not like his older brother, Garvan was. He wasn't good enough for the Andromias family to marry Dinah. He wasn't good enough for the military officers on the Death Star to design its weapon systems.

But there was one thing he had and that was the perfect children. A strong, handsome firstborn son who fought gallantly for the Empire, and had been specially scouted as a pilot. A beautiful, intelligent daughter that rubbed elbows with the upper crust, and had been specially scouted to be the attendant of a princess. His children were his accomplishments, his proof that he was worthy, and could produce a fine product. Neither had gotten his technical intelligence, so they were there to better his position, and thus better their collective future.

Brendan would be the top military officer, and Felicity would be the wife of some important politician. So when Alaric was old, grey, and retired, he could smile, point to his children, and say, "Look what I did."

Then he would be good enough.

He had been elated when all three of them had been invited to the Imperial Ball. Finally he could show off his amazing children to Tarkin and Vader (he didn't know about Felicity's previous encounter) and the Emperor. Alaric could point to Brendan and Felicity and say, "Look at my children. Aren't they great?"

"So where are these children you brag about so much?" Tarkin asked. He didn't actually care about the Rhiaon children, but good Gods, Alaric Rhiaon never shut up about them. Maybe if he finally met Brandon and Felicia, Alaric would drop the subject.

"Well, I'm not certain which of these handsomely uniformed men is my son," Alaric grinned, thinking he was so clever to compliment the other soldiers and yet manage to brag about his son. He didn't notice Tarkin looking at Vader like he was giving Vader permission to Force choke him. "But my beautiful daughter should be around here somewhere. Let's see, she's the beautiful brunette in the stunning blue dress."

"I'm dead serious, Lord Vader," Tarkin whispered to Vader. "I'll give you this shot free. The Emperor doesn't need to know."

"Hold that thought," Vader answered back. "I've encountered the Rhiaon girl and this could be entertaining."

"And what if just made some choking noises and dropped to the floor, pretending you choked me?"

"May I remind you that you were the one who introduced the subject of his children?"

"I am not a perfect man."

"Can you say that again? I want to record it and play it back when I'm having a bad day."

"Isn't _every day_ a bad day for you?"

"Found her!" Alaric announced, oblivious to the conversation behind him. "Could one of you Gentlemen get the Emperor? I want to introduce her-"

And then he stopped. His eyes were locked on Felicity in the middle of the ballroom, laughing with Princess Leia Organa. The shawl Felicity had been wearing earlier was nowhere to be found, and Alaric saw the neckline of his daughter's dress for the first time.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen," Alaric said through gritted teeth.

* * *

Felicity was in the middle of a perfectly pleasant conversation with Leia and Captain Raymus Antilles when someone grabbed her arm and whipped her around.

"What do you think you're doing?" Alaric exclaimed as his startled daughter was forced to face him.

"I'm sorry?" Felicity looked both confused and frightened. People were staring and he was holding her arm too tight.

"You better be sorry!" Alaric snapped. "Look at you! This is a disgrace!"

"Father!" Brendan raced up to them. The dancefloor had gone quiet as all eyes turned to Alaric Rhiaon's tirade. "What's going on?"

"Stay out of this, Brendan!" Alaric ordered.

"Father," Felicity whimpered. "My arm. You're hurting me."

"Is there a problem here?" Bail Organa materialized. He was scowling at Alaric's display, but was uncertain how to help Felicity.

"Yes, there's a problem!" Alaric turned on Bail, but did not release Felicity's arm. "How could you do this! I trusted you with my daughter!"

"And what have or she done wrong?" Bail inquired in his calm politician voice.

Felicity whimpered again and struggled under her father's grip to free her arm. She looked at Brendan at a complete loss of what to do. Alaric had _never_ gotten physical with his children before.

"Look at what's she wearing!" Alaric exclaimed. "Look at how lowcut her neckline is! How dare you bring my daughter to an event like this looking like a harlot!"

* * *

My father hurt me a lot that night. Physically, the only wound he gave me was an unintentional bruise from where he gripped my arm. But mentally and emotionally, he destroyed me. I had been so looking forward to the Imperial Ball, and there he stood ruining everything. I will not recount the terrible things he said to me, the names he called me, or the things he accused Bail of. Frankly, I've blocked out the memory of most of them.

But I remember the look on Leia's face. That fear, and heartbreak, and indignation. I remember the look on Bail's face. How he could barely stop himself from breaking his political façade and going on a tirade about how Alaric wasn't a tenth of the loving, caring father Bail had been to me. I remember the look on Brendan's face. His knuckles turning white as he clutched his fist at his side, wanting nothing more than to punch out our father. I remember the whispers around us, how people both sympathized with my abuse and shamed my outfit. I remember the pretentious gaze of the Emperor, the oddly angry one of Vader, the entertained one of Third Sister, and the gloating one of Tarkin as my father embarrassed himself.

But most of all I remember how I cried, my makeup running as my father humiliated and degraded me in front of everyone whose opinions I cared about.

So forgive me if I do not wish to recount how my father broke my heart and we skip to the end.

* * *

"For the last time, Lieutenant Rhiaon," Bail said in his calm political voice as Felicity sobbed in her father's grip, "I must ask you to let go of your daughter."

"Father," Brendan said, "you're hurting her!"

Alaric looked at Felicity and took in the sight of her sobbing, pained demeanour for the first time. A look passed over his face like he was surprised at his actions and he let go of Felicity. She immediately wrapped her arms around Brendan's neck and chest into his chest.

"She hasn't done anything wrong," Brendan chastised, glaring at his father. His heart broke as his little sister cried in his arms.

"Quiet, Brendan," Alaric commanded.

"No," Brendan challenged. "How dare you do this to your daughter! How dare you do this to my sister!"

"Brendan," Bail shot him a look, and the boy fell silent.

"Brendan, have you been drinking tonight?" Alaric questioned.

Brendan scowled, "If you're implying that has to do with my words-"

"Can you drive a speeder?" Alaric cut to the point.

Brendan blinked, "I'll be sober enough in a few hours when it's time to go home."

"Very well, Organa, my daughter is technically still in your charge, therefore it is your responsibility to bring her home. Have one of your men drive her to my place of residence _immediately_."

Bail frowned, "Lieutenant, the event doesn't end for several hours. Perhaps we should let your daughter stay."

"She is _my_ daughter and she will not continue to cause a scene by wearing such an inappropriate outfit."

Bail's gaze hardened, "With all due respect, Alaric, Felicity is not the one who has caused a scene tonight."

Silence hung in the room as Alaric felt the weight of the hundreds of eyes on him.

"Senator," Alaric lowered his voice. He calmly took a step forward and told Bail, "You _will_ have one of your men return Felicity home _immediately_ , or the next time you take her from said residence, I will have you arrested for kidnapping. You may take care of her, but she is still _my_ daughter, and I am still her legal guardian."

Bail said nothing, his eyes deadlocked with Alaric for several minutes. Then he sighed, closed his eyes, and accepted defeat. There was nothing more he could do for Felicity that night.

"Captain Antilles," Bail ordered, "please take Miss Rhiaon home."

"Yes, Sir," Raymus nodded. He eased Felicity out of Brendan's arms, "Come on, Sweetheart. Let's get you home."

Felicity's pathetic sobs echoed through the room as Raymus Antilles accompanied her out of the Ball. The buzz of quiet conversation filled the room once she was gone, and Alaric walked away from the group without a word.

Bail Organa was red faced and muttered his apologies to Brendan and Leia before departing to take a minute alone to calm himself. Slowly the conversations picked up again, the crowd went their separate ways, and soon the music started up again.

Leia sighed, looking at Brendan whose eyes were fixed on the door where Felicity had exited.

"I should probably go talk to my father," Leia said.

Brendan's head snapped back to her.

"No, wait!" Brendan grabbed Leia's shoulder gently, but firm enough to stop her.

Leia looked at Brendan oddly as he pulled her in close to him. She really wished her heart didn't beat faster at the feeling of his hands on her skin and closeness of their bodies.

"Your Highness," Brendan whispered. "I know what the starbird means."

Leia looked around nervously, "You do?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Why?"

"Because I want to join the Rebel Alliance. Leia… can you help me?"

Leia smiled and placed a hand on top of his, "Absolutely."

Neither noticed that Third Sister had heard every word they said.

* * *

Alaric Rhiaon splashed the cold water from the faucet onto his face. He had to calm down from the scene Felicity caused.

"Oh, Felicity," Alaric shook his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror. "How could you do that to me?"

That was when he noticed the black figure standing behind him, reflected in the mirror.

_Koo Pah._

Mechanical breathes filled the room as Vader approached the Lieutenant.

"Lord Vader," Alaric turned to face the Sith. "What can I do for-"

A metal fist smashed into his face, and Alaric's head slammed against the porcelain sink as he tumbled to the ground. Alaric groaned in pain and confusion as he laid on the floor clutching his face and the forming bump on his head.

"Families are to be cherished, not humiliated," Vader said simply before exiting the room.

Alaric moaned and flopped to the floor.

What in the Galaxy was _that_ about?


	7. Brendan's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bail serves tea, Felicity makes a promise, and Brendan joins the rebellion.

Operation Citadel

Chapter Six

Brendan’s Visit

* * *

“You’re sixteen now, it’s perfectly legal,” Bail Organa said to Felicity.

“It’s a nice offer, Senator, but unnecessary,” Felicity replied.

“It’s just that learning how to pilot a ship is a very important skill.”

“And one I will learn, just not from an instructor you pay. Look, Brendan and I have been talking about this for ages. He’s going to be the one to teach me to fly and that’s the end of it. Besides I can drive a speeder already, so I’m not totally helpless.”

“Besides, every time we do a flight sim, she manages to crash her ship a truly spectacular display,” Leia added from the couch in the corner of Bail’s office. “Maybe it’s a good thing Felicity doesn’t know how to fly a ship.”

Bail shook his head, “How’s your speech going?”

“Almost done,” Leia reported. “I’m still struggling with the ending though.”

“You’ll get it,” Bail encouraged. “I know you will.”

Leia smiled, “Thank you, Father.”

“I still can’t believe we’re only a few months away from you officially making your bid to be Senator of Alderaan,” Felicity said. “What are you even going to do with yourself, Bail, if she wins?”

“I have a few ideas,” Bail grinned, his eyes casually drifting to starbird necklace around Felicity’s neck.

It had been a few months since the Imperial Ball and Felicity continued to wear her necklace almost every day. Bail suspected it was out of defiance for Alaric who Felicity had only spoken with a few times since he humiliated her. She still didn’t know the connection of her necklace to the Alliance, but there was someone who had been made _very_ aware of it.

Almost immediately after Brendan had approached Leia, he had been sent on a tour of duty. He was scheduled to return that day, and he agreed to speak with Bail privately about joining the Alliance.

Felicity, of course, didn’t know that and was looking forward to spending a few days with her brother. Alaric was away so the siblings had the house to themselves.

A loud buzzer sounded on Bail’s desk and the voice of Sheltay came over the comm, “Senator Organa, Brendan Rhiaon is here.”

Bail didn’t have a chance to reply before Felicity had run into the foyer.

“Brendan!” Felicity threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

“Ow! Not so tight!” Brendan exclaimed.

Felicity frowned, startled at the strange greeting.

“Brendan,” Felicity started to pull back, “what is-”

And then she stopped. Horror was frozen on her face as she took in the sight of her brother.

Bloodied, bruised, and black eyes swollen shut so badly he could barely see out of them. Brendan had been savagely beaten.

“What happened?” Felicity exclaimed as the Organas entered the room.

“Brendan!” Leia’s jaw dropped. “Father, call a medic!”

“I’m fine!” Brendan insisted, holding up a hand in a stop gesture. “Duty was just… a little tough this time. I, uh… I bruised my ribs, and… I sort of… I guess, I… I fell down a cliff.”

Felicity and Leia shared a look.

“You fell down a cliff?” Felicity repeated incredulously.

“Uh… yeah,” Brendan stepped around Felicity. He kept his back to her, casually running a hand through his wild brown locks as he told his story, “We were on, uh… Kamino and… it was raining… You know, like it does on Kamino, and I, uh… I slipped and fell down a cliff.”

Felicity frowned, her brows knitting together, “I didn’t think Kamino had cliffs.”

“Well, it does!” Brendan’s voice was urgent and slightly annoyed, but not enough to sound like he was snapping at Felicity. It just sounded like he wanted to get off the topic.

But he couldn’t avoid the eyes on him across the room; the eyes of Bail Organa. Bail watched Brendan from the doorway of his office. His arms were crossed, a scowl with painted on his face, and his eyes spoke of pity and understanding.

Brendan sighed and shot Bail a brief apologetic look. He couldn’t deny that Bail Organa knew he was lying.

* * *

I’m not exactly certain why Brendan was beaten, but I knew it had to do with the Rebellion. Sometimes I lie awake at night and would whether he was overheard discussing the Alliance, defied some Imperial law, or even showed sympathy to a poor family. At the time, I was still too naïve to pick up on the clues that my brother had been beaten by his superiors, but Bail certainly wasn’t.

* * *

Brendan stared out the window of Bail Organa’s office watching the city bustle and live beyond the glass. Good, peaceful citizens the Empire claimed he fought for. But those citizens didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know about the orders to execute innocent people: men, women, children even.

He remembered the first time he was ordered to take a life. Brendan had immediately thrown up after the man fell to the ground dead. Blood poured from the shot Brendan had put in him.

And what was the crime the man committed? It was a protest that had gotten violent, though they would never admit it, it was the Imperial who struck first. A woman had been forced to the ground and was being beaten by two Stormtroopers when the man intervened. Captain Ozzel had ordered Brendan to take the shot, and Brendan did without hesitation. But when the man hit the ground and Brendan saw the weight of his actions, Brendan had escaped the crowd and thrown up in a nearby alley.

Brendan wasn’t punished only because he had killed an insurgent, as they had called the man Brendan murdered. The man was just one of many faces Brendan had come to see in his nightmares. People he had murdered in the name of a corrupt government.

His crimes haunted him. He could see their faces – the faces of the murdered – wherever he went. He heard their screams on the wind. Flowers smelled of the ash of explosions and rotting of corpses. In his food, he tasted metal and blood. And when he held his sister in his arms, Brendan felt the cold still bodies of loved people who would never come back to their own families.

The doctors told Brendan it was a common side effect of fighting in a war, but he knew the truth, he knew something was wrong with him mentally. It was in his blood after all.

There was something Alaric and Brendan had kept hidden from Felicity. Something that Alaric had even tried to hide from Brendan. But Brendan remembered. He remembered the battle his mother fought every day.

Alaric would never admit to his children that his wife, Dinah had a severe case of depression. Brendan remembered the days his mother never spoke, how she always seemed sad, how she was always tired yet could never fall asleep. He remembered the day he overheard Mother and Father fighting, and she yelled at Father that one of the reasons she married him was so she could get away from her naturalist family and get medical help.

Father loved Mother, there was no doubt in Brendan’s mind of that, but perhaps he had loved her too much. They were forbidden of speaking of Dinah because it hurt Alaric too much. Brendan knew that his father was tormented by the idea that he should have been able to save her. He gave her everything he thought she wanted. He gave her a good home, a good paycheck, he got her on medication, he was able to support them enough for her to pursue her painting career, he gave her children. But it hadn’t been enough, no matter what Alaric did, he couldn’t save her. He couldn’t be there, couldn’t join her in that darkness and lead her from it.

He loved her, and still she was sad. He loved her, and still she was angry. He loved her, and still she felt worthless. He loved her, and still she shied away from his touch. He loved her, and still she wouldn’t eat.

So when Dinah got sick, there was no way for her to fight off the disease. There was nothing Alaric could do; she was too tired, too underweight, too sad to keep fighting.

He loved her, and still she died.

And Brendan understood why it was so difficult for his father; Alaric had always thought he wasn’t good enough, and her withdrawals enforced that point in his mind. So, when that horrible illness claimed Dinah, there was only one thing his father must have thought.

He wasn’t good enough to save her.

Brendan knew that he had inherited his mother’s depression, and that had coupled with the PTSD he developed as a soldier. It was a terrifying combination, but he kept it a secret. Brendan never told his father about the pills he had to take everyday, or the frequent trips to the psychiatrist that held him back from military promotion (after all, you can’t have a “mentally unstable” commanding officer, and anti-discrimination laws had died with the Republic.) Brendan knew it would just make things too complicated if he told his father about his mental illnesses. Too many memories of Dinah, and it could only result in Alaric panicking and trying to shut Brendan away like he did when Dinah in her last years when he lost control of the situation.

But it was Felicity that Brendan worried about; she had no idea she was at risk of developing a very severe case of depression. Alaric had forbidden Brendan from disclosing that information to Felicity out of fear that she would develop it simply because she had been made aware of the situation.

Brendan had tried to tell her a few times, but always found himself thwarted, or worse, losing courage at the last moment. It was hard to bring up the topic because Felicity didn’t talk about their mother. He knew that Felicity didn’t remember Dinah, and as much as it broke Brendan’s heart, he was a little glad. Dinah’s depression had taken a turn for the worse after Felicity’s birth, and Brendan was relieved that Felicity couldn’t remember watching their mother slowly slip away.

Perhaps that’s why he had made it his mission in life to always keep the smile on Felicity’s face. He was terrified of losing her to the depression that he and his mother suffered through. His sister was intelligent, beautiful, and carefree. She should never feel anything but her name itself: felicity.

“Here,” a voice said and Brendan found Bail Organa suddenly forcing a cup of tea into his hands, “drink this.”

Brendan gave the Senator a half-hearted smile, “Not a big fan of tea, Senator.”

“Drink,” Bail said in his patented stern yet kindly tone. “It’s a special Alderaanian blend of herbs that are guaranteed to lift your mood.”

“Guaranteed?” Brendan’s smile still did not reach his eyes.

“Promise,” Bail placed a hand on Brendan’s shoulder.

Brendan nodded and took a long drink of the tea.

“Thank you,” Brendan set the cup on Bail’s desk. “So, how long until the girls are back from the Senate meeting.”

“About an hour, and then you’ll have them all to yourself.” Bail shot Brendan an amused smile, “But tread carefully with my daughter.”

Brendan laughed, “Senator, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with your daughter. Her crush does amuse me, but she is far too young for my tastes.”

“Good. You remind me a little too much of her father.”

Brendan was surprised, “I… was unaware you knew her birth father.”

Bail’s complexion paled a little, “Uh… I mean-”

Brendan held up a hand, “I get it. State secret and all. Does Leia know?”

“I would rather she not hear that truth until it is absolutely necessary.”

“Then my lips are sealed. Though word of advice, Senator, if she does have a long-lost twin brother – which is what I assume, based on your reaction to the idea when it was presented at the ball – please tell her if she ever meets him. The last thing you want is them to feel some instinctual connection, misinterpret that as romance and then do some things they’ll regret later.”

Bail laughed, “Well, hypothetically if Leia does have a twin brother, I don’t think that would ever happen.”

“Why not?”

“Hypothetically there would be enough people who would know about said hypothetical ruse to stop that from happening.”

“Well, fingers crossed.” Brendan suddenly hissed in pain and grabbed his side, “Stupid broken ribs.”

“Would you like anything?” Bail asked crossing the room to rest a hand on Brendan’s shoulder.

“To take my painkillers more than once every six hours?”

“Sorry, I’m only willing to take one Rhiaon child under medical liability,” Bail joked. He watched the younger man struggle in pain for several minutes, his expression hardening into one of anger. “Brendan, may I ask you a question? And I want you to give me an honest answer.”

“Shoot,” Brendan nodded.

“Who did this to you?”

Brendan sighed, “When we entered orbit of Coruscant, my senior officer called me into his room. He said he had orders from the Grand Inquisitor, that he had received reports of possible rebellious actions on my part… four of the highest-ranking officers on the ship surrounded me, and…”

Bail winced, “They gave you a warning?”

“Something to contemplate on my days off,” Brendan spat the bitter words Ozzel had said to him. “The pain would be a constant reminder of the choice I have to make. And if I make the wrong one, I’m going to get far worse next time.”

“Brendan-”

“You have to get me out of there, Senator! Me and Fliss.”

“Felicity?”

“I’m not going to leave her to the Empire. To stay with our father. She won’t be safe.”

Bail sighed, “Brendan, I can’t take both of you.”

“Why not?” Brendan demanded. “What reason could you have to keep Felicity here?”

Bail lowered his head, “Brendan… there’s something I need to tell you. Felicity… We’ve been using her as a pawn.”

“ _What?_ ”

“To keep an eye on your father.”

Anger flashed in Brendan’s eyes, “I can’t believe this. This _whole time_ you’ve been _using_ my sister? _Why?_ ”

And so Bail told Brendan exactly what they knew about Alaric Rhiaon and the Death Star they were building.

“I don’t believe it,” Brendan whispered. “My father would never do that.”

“He has been for years,” Bail relayed the hard truth. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

“Does Felicity-”

“She doesn’t know anything.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“If it makes you feel better, neither Leia nor I have been comfortable in our deceit with Felicity. Leia has grown fond of her, and I see her like a daughter. We’re trying to win Felicity over to the Rebellion, but it’s slow work.”

“This Death Star,” Brendan asked, “is it close to being finished?”

“Not according to our information,” Bail replied. “Apparently, they want Alaric to spend less time at home as without his oversight there’s been a bunch of miscommunications.”

“And that’s why you want Felicity to stay.”

“It doesn’t sit right with me. I can’t speak for you, but it’s clear his relationship with Felicity is mentally and emotionally abusive. I’m trying to convince the Council to get her out, but right now it’s important we draw Alaric away from the Death Star.”

Brendan sighed, “I understand. Sometimes in war sacrifices must be made. I would offer to take her place but that I don’t think Felicity’s on our side yet. Plus I would have to still be a Stormtrooper, and who knows how much longer I would last under Ozzel.”

“So, you’re ready to defect then?” Bail asked.

“Just tell me when and where.”

“The Council and I have looked over your upcoming tour of duty schedule and we’ve found an opening. You’re being deployed in a few days to Faclov. Three weeks after that, you’re heading to Dantooine. We have an old base there, and a recruitment officer by the name of Obik Kenu will be making a pick up. Your name is on his list. You’ll be contacted on Faclov with further details on how to meet up with Kenu. But before any of that, I have to ask you, Brendan, are you _absolutely_ sure you want to do this? You may not be able to see your father, or even Felicity ever again? Are you willing to give that up? Will you fight, and if necessary, die in the name of the Rebel Alliance?”

Brendan grinned, “Absolutely.”

Bail smiled and shook Brendan’s hand, “Brendan Rhiaon, welcome to the Rebellion.”

* * *

Brendan was extra affectionate over his visit. He was constantly at my side, taking me anywhere I wanted to go, doing anything I wanted to do. We went to museums, went on a walking tour of the finest architecture on Coruscant, looked over old family Holos, revisited all my drawings of the buildings I designed that were (in my imagination) to be built when I was grown up. We had lunch at the restaurant with the glorious roast leek soup (the Organas joined us and paid) and visited Mother’s grave.

There was something oddly final in that visit, though I couldn’t figure out what. I knew Brendan was saying goodbye, but I didn’t know where he was going.

* * *

“Do you have to go?” Felicity whined as Brendan hugged her goodbye.

The transport sat awaiting the dozens of Stormtroopers as they bid farewell to their families.

“Sorry, Shortstack,” Brendan chuckled, pulling back from his sister, “duty calls. Just know that I’m going off to fight so you have a good life.”

“My life is terrible when you’re not here.”

“Well, what are you going to do? Chain me to radiator in the basement.”

“I do have diplomatic immunity.”

“No, you don’t,” Leia shook her head. While Bail had to work, Leia had accompanied Felicity to say goodbye to Brendan.

“Fine,” Felicity smirked, “then I’ll get Leia to chain you to the radiator in the basement.”

“Oh, so it’s that kind of crush,” Brendan raised his eyebrows teasingly at Leia.

Leia blushed bright red, “I won’t-”

“I’m just messing with you,” Brendan laughed.

Leia groaned, “ _Rhiaons_!”

“Well, I guess if you’re mad at me there’s no point in asking if it would be appropriate to hug _you_ goodbye as well?” Brendan asked.

“Me?” Leia’s eyes lit up like all her dreams had just come true.

When she got older, Leia would become very level-headed and proper with the men she had affection for… until Han Solo walked into her life and completely destroyed that notion. But with her first crush of Brendan, it was reasonable that she get flustered and flattered all so easily. She was only fourteen after all.

“Come here,” Brendan opened his arms wide.

Leia didn’t hesitate to launch herself into them.

“Leia,” Brendan whispered, “thank you.”

“For what?” Leia understood that Brendan didn’t want Felicity to overhear.

But there was someone who could overhear. Someone who knew that Stormtroopers had to turn in their armor before going on shore leave. Someone who had managed to plant a bug on Brendan Rhiaon’s breastplate. Someone who had knew that Brendan was forced to change into his armor before saying goodbye to Leia Organa and Felicity Rhiaon.

No one noticed Third Sister lingering in the dark shadow of a pillar, not far from the awaiting transport. No one noticed that Third Sister could hear every word Brendan Rhiaon was saying.

“I’m going to be a Rebel,” Brendan replied. “I’m joining up after Faclov.”

“But why are you thanking me?” Leia knew well enough that she had to continue to play the game even if she thought no one was listening.

Catching her drift, Brendan pulled back and winked at her, “Because you inspire me with your drive to make the galaxy a better place. Good luck with your Senatorial campaign. I’ll know you do great.”

Leia blushed, “Thanks, Brendan.”

“But don’t get _too_ passionate,” Brendan warned. “Remember, the more you tighten your grip, Leia, the more star systems will slip through your fingers. Don’t scare them off from a good cause.”

“I’ll remember,” Leia promised, and she truly did remember those words.

“Two minutes!” Captain Ozzel called out to his men.

Brendan sighed, “I’ve got to get going.”

“I wish you were staying for a few more days,” Felicity moaned. “I mean, we haven’t even started my pilot lessons yet. I’m going to have to take Bail up on his offer to pay for an instructor.”

“Don’t you dare!” Brendan warned. “I am the only person who is allowed to teach you to fly, and you know it.”

“But Brendan-”

“I’m serious, Fliss, promise me that you’ll never learn to fly a ship unless I’m the one teaching you.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “Alright, if you’re going to be a drama queen about it.”

“Say it, Felicity,” Brendan bade. “I want to hear the words come from your mouth.”

“Fine!” Felicity playfully smacked his chest. “I swear on my very life itself, that I’ll never learn to fly a ship unless you’re the one teaching me.”

“Atta girl.”

“Soldiers, fall in!” Captain Ozzel ordered.

Brendan kissed Felicity on the forehead, “I love you, Little Sis.”

“I love you, Big Bro,” Felicity hugged Brendan.

* * *

I have replayed that moment in my head so many times. I remember how Brendan walked away from me, turning to wave one last time. Leia hugged my shoulders as we watched him board the transport. My simple promise not to learn to fly a ship without him seemed so casual at the time. I had no idea the impact that promise would have on my life, how it would become a pillar of my existence and my character. I had no idea that that would be the final promise I made my brother.  

Because that was the last time I ever saw my brother.


	8. The Bombing of Faclov

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendan dies, Felicity vows revenge, and Ozzel annoys Third Sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: In the previous chapter I said that Brendan’s commanding officer was the future General Veers. However, I was actually thinking of Admiral Ozzel and mixed up the names. I have gone back in the chapter and corrected said mistake. So don’t be confused when I start calling Brendan’s commanding officer Captain Ozzel rather than Captain Veers.
> 
> Also, warning, this chapter gets very gory.

Operation Citadel

Chapter Seven

The Bombing of Faclov

* * *

“You’re positive that Rhiaon is a traitor?” Captain Ozzel demanded, expecting to appear powerful seated at his desk on the Star Destroyer the _Eradicator._ It wasn’t his Star Destroyer, and he wasn’t even near the top of the Imperial food chain, but he was a commander with soldiers that listened to him and deserved respect.

Respect Third Sister had no intention of giving him.

“You have seen the footage of his confession,” Third Sister said dryly.

She stood across the desk, dominating the small office. Her pale skin, blue eyes, and long, ice blonde hair making her look like a phantom under her tight fitting black dress and leggings. Her cloak was neatly tied around her neck, and her hood pulled back. The silver lightsaber on her belt gleamed menacingly. Yet despite all the fear and power she emitted, she seemed to be barely more than nineteen.

There were three words that came to Ozzel’s mind when he looked at Third Sister: beautiful, young, and _dangerous_.

“I have heard many of my men mutter that they wish to join the Rebellion. It’s all tough talk,” Ozzel dismissed. “None of them have the bal-”

“Captain,” Third Sister warned. “You are in the presence of a lady.”

Ozzel frowned, “None of them have the _courage_ to do it.”

Third Sister cocked her head to the side, “I think Lord Vader would find it _very_ interesting that you view joining the Rebellion as courageous.”

“Listen to me, Little Girl, the Rhiaon issue has already been dealt with,” Ozzel snapped. “I gave him a warning he’s sure to-”

Third Sister lifted her hand and suddenly something was squeezing Ozzel’s windpipe.

“Do not call me ‘Little Girl’ Captain,” Third Sister warned as she Force Choked Ozzel. “I may be half your age, but do not forget which of us has the higher rank.”

Third Sister released Ozzel.

Ozzel coughed hard as he regained his breath, “But Rhiaon is not a problem-”

Third Sister smiled, “Captain Ozzel, you are a careless fool. I have no doubt that someday you are going to make a grave mistake, and will pay for it, likely at the hand of my Master, Lord Vader. I assure you, I will enjoy the day he strangles the life out of you. He probably won’t even do it in person, just over a view screen. But until that day, we must heed the orders of the Grand Moff Tarkin.”

Ozzel frowned, “Tarkin?”

“You think My Lord is idle enough to concern himself with rebellious Stormtroopers? He passed the issue to Governor Tarkin.”

“By why Tarkin?”

“Because Brendan Rhiaon’s father, Alaric Rhiaon reports to Tarkin,” Third Sister explained. “Tarkin, in turn, passed the issue to several lower ranking officers… scapegoats in case of failure.”

Ozzel didn’t like how Third Sister was looking at him.

Third Sister continued, “Alaric Rhiaon’s project has stalled and, well, he needs his faith in the Empire revived. And everyone knows the best way to bring people back to a cause.”

Silence clung to the air, and it took a few minutes before Ozzel realised he was supposed to fill in the blank.

“A victory?” Ozzel guessed.

“A martyr,” Third Sister corrected. “Brendan Rhiaon’s a handsome, clever, likeable, young man of good Imperial stock. A soldier. A son. A brother.”

“A martyr.”

“A pretty face to bring the galaxy together.”

“You want me to kill Brendan Rhiaon.”

“No,” Third Sister laughed. “I want the Rebellion to.”

Ozzel looked down at his desk; an odd feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

“You have your orders, Captain,” Third Sister turned and walked to the door. She paused at the archway and looked back at Ozzel, “I will so enjoy watching Vader kill you someday.”

Ozzel felt a cold tingle down his spine as Third Sister exited his office.

“She’s worse than Seventh Sister,” Ozzel shuddered.

* * *

“Is everything in place, Sergeant Myec?” Ozzel asked over the comm.

He was observing the hustle and bustle of the town square in the capital city of the planet Faclov, cleverly named Faclov City. His Stormtroopers were milling about, performing their usual duties. Security cameras were standard issue in public places like the town square, and all of them were connected to the Imperial database. Ozzel had many lovely angles of the town square where the explosives were cleverly hidden.

It was a suicide mission that only a couple Imperials were aware of. The other Stormtroopers stationed in the blast zone were like Brendan; weak, rebellious, liabilities, a problem to be eliminated. Brendan Rhiaon’s death wouldn’t just take care of one troublesome Stormtrooper, but would be a cleansing of the weakest links in the Imperial chain.

Of course, there would be civilian casualties, but there were always those in war. Ozzel would sleep just fine tonight.

… Although that might be because he knew Third Sister wasn’t going to break in and slit his throat.

He hoped.

“The charges are set and Kast is in place,” Myec reported.

“Good,” Ozzel smiled. He flipped the line to Kast open and addressed both men, “Sergeant Myec. Sergeant Kast. The Empire thanks you for your heroic sacrifice.”

“If it means taking down the Rebellion, I’m honoured to do it,” Kast replied.

“Alright, boys, let’s get this show on the road. And whatever you do, do not reveal what we’ve done.”

“Yes, Sir!” both men replied.

Comfortably seated in his office, Ozzel watched the scene before him on the various security cameras placed around town.

No one would forget this day in history.

* * *

 

“Rhiaon, disturbance at Mark 4587,” Ozzel’s voice crackled over Brendan’s shoulder comm. “Please intervene.”

Brendan pushed the button to reply, “Affirmative, Captain. Approaching now.”

Brendan had no idea of the plot. When two people started fighting in the street, he thought nothing of it. When Ozzel ordered him to intervene, he thought nothing of it. When the source of the fight proved to be one man accusing the other of being a Rebel, he thought nothing of it.

He didn’t see the small X scratched in the dirt between the men. He didn’t see the forty-seven bombs hidden around the square. He didn’t see that everyone of significance in the Empire suddenly clear the square. He didn’t see Sergeant Myec watching him carefully, as if waiting for a signal. He didn’t see Sergeant Kast hidden in the shadows with the detonator.

And then the oddities started appearing.

Brendan was in the middle of negotiating peace between the two men when a command came over his com.

“Corporal Rhiaon, report your location,” Captain Ozzel demanded.

Brendan frowned, “Town Square, Mark 4587. Intervening in the public disruption as ordered.”

There was silence over his radio, and then Ozzel spoke again.

“Rhiaon, there are no less than eighteen troopers in Mark 4587. Please give specific location.”

Brendan looked around in confusion. He was basically in the dead center of the town square.

“Center of town square,” Brendan said.

“Negative,” Ozzel replied. “Need more specifics.”

“There’s a shop nearby called Antilles Fine Imports.”

“Negative. Need more specifics.”

“There’s a fountain about ten feet away.”

“Negative. Need more specifics.”

Brendan rolled his eyes, “How about I’m next to the two yelling guys?”

Silence over the radio.

“Rhiaon you will report to my office for disciplinary action at the end of your shift,” Ozzel snapped. “Insubordination is a serious issue. Additionally, I’m still unable to locate you. Remove your helmet so I may identify you.”

“You want me to _what?_ ” Brendan blurted out. He had _never_ been asked to remove his helmet on duty.

“Remove your helmet _immediately_ , Corporal Rhiaon,” Ozzel ordered. “If you fail to comply, additional action will be taken against you.”

“Come on, Pretty Boy,” Myec taunted over the comm. “No one cares if you have helmet hair.”

* * *

Ozzel watched from his office as Brendan Rhiaon reluctantly took off his helmet.

“Perfect,” Ozzel hit a few buttons to zoom the security cameras on Brendan, his face becoming easily recognizable and very handsome. “Rhiaon, you are to continue without your helmet on.”

“Sir?” Brendan’s voice responded in utter confusion.

“I want to observe how you handle this situation. Promotion may be in your future young man.”

On the camera, Ozzel saw Brendan flash a smile that belonged in the picture of HoloMags for teenaged girls. The boy was truly the perfect image to win over the public.

Brendan continued with his intervention, not noticing how little by little the actors (whose families were being paid handsomely for the sacrifice of their live) forced Brendan backwards towards the X in the dirt.

He was saying things that made perfect soundbites for propaganda. “There is no need to fight for the peace the Empire already provides.” “We are all a common people united in the same quest for peace, love, and happiness.” “Hate not your Rebel neighbour, but help them do the right thing.” Ozzel honestly thought the Empire propaganda department should have snatched Brendan up years ago.

Slowly, but carefully they moved Brendan into place.

And then he stepped over the X.

“Alright, Rhiaon,” Ozzel commed Brendan. “You can put your helmet back on now.”

“Yes, Sir,” Brendan replied. Putting back on his helmet, he looked at the two men beside him, and said, “Gentleman, at the end of the day I think we all can agree we just want peace.”

And then everything blew up.

Screams filled the air as bomb after bomb went off. Body parts flew through the air, scattering in a dozen different directions from their origins. Men, women, children, humans, aliens, Imperials, Rebels, innocents, dead in the most horrific and painful manners.

The smell was ungodly: blood, metal, fire, smoke, and worst of all, roasted flesh. Blood literally ran through the streets as an estimated 2,147 people died in 2.38 seconds.

It would take weeks to sift through all the body parts, and most would never be matched to their owner. Families were notified based on the tiniest scraps of identification. Hundreds of families would never get confirmation.

But the Rhiaon family would get confirmation, because they did find Brendan.

Or rather… pieces of Brendan.

His comlink was found three blocks away, smashed beyond repair.

His weapons belt with his blaster was found hanging from a tree next to Antilles Fine Imports.

His dog tags were found lying on top of Sergeant Myec, who was so horribly mangled they had to match him to his dental records.

His arm was found in a nearby alley, identified as Brendan by a tattoo of the word _Felicity_ which was followed by his sister’s date of birth.

Finally, two feet away from the X that set his death sentence, Brendan Rhiaon’s helmet was found.

… With his head still inside. 

* * *

Bail Organa had no idea why the Senate was called to an emergency session, but he was suspicious when they specifically requested the presence of Leia and Felicity. Usually, he got the odd request for Leia, but Bail knew something was wrong the Emperor himself commed Bail and requested Felicity by her full name.

The media was crammed into every free nook and cranny of the Senate hall, and far too many of those cameras were pointed at the Alderaan pod. Bail frowned as he noticed where the rest of the cameras were pointed.

“Why is there a pod with Vader, Tarkin, and my father?” Felicity asked.

Bail felt his stomach drop, “I… I don’t know.”

Leia and Felicity shared a look.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Leia said.

And then the Emperor arrived.

* * *

I remember sitting in the pod that day as Palpatine announced the horrible tragedy that was the Bombing of Faclov. Like I said before, he was nothing if not one cunning bastard. He had planted enough clues to make it look like it had been the Rebels who set it up. The Rebels came off as dangerous, wild card, vigilantes who anyone would be ashamed to associate themselves with.

And I lapped up every word.

* * *

“How dare they!” Felicity hissed. “Those disgusting, selfish, _murderers!_ The Empire gives them everything and _this_ it their answer?”

Leia looked at Felicity, horror in her eyes. At first, Bail thought it was Leia being unable to hold back her involvement in the Rebellion when her best friend was spitting such terrible insults.

But then Leia asked a harrowing question.

“Felicity… isn’t Brendan on Faclov?”

Everything in Felicity’s life came to a screeching halt.

Brendan.

_Brendan was on Faclov._

Was he alive? Was he okay? Felicity wanted nothing more than to smash the pod back into the wall, and run all the way to Faclov to see if Brendan was alright. Or at least run to the nearest comm. She needed to see her brother immediately.

But she didn’t need to go to Faclov to see what happened to Brendan.

Because Palpatine performed one of the most disgusting actions he ever committed.

He showed the footage of Brendan’s death.

* * *

Palpatine had invited me, my father, and the media to the announcement of the bombing specifically so that our reactions could be caught on film.

And I played right into his hands.

* * *

“Brendan?” Felicity whispered in horror as the footage played on the view screen of every Senatorial pod. As the Stormtrooper pulled off his helmet, there was no denying that it was her brother. “Oh my God… What- What’s going to happen? Why are they showing my brother?”

Fear shot through the hearts of both Organas, and immediately Bail sprung into action.

“Turn off the view screen,” Bail ordered as he hit the button that returned their pod to the wall.

Leia looked up at him, “But Father-”

“Do it!” Bail snapped.

“What’s going to happen to Brendan?” Felicity repeated helplessly. Her skin had gone white, her eyes wide, and she could barely move a muscle. She was in shock. “What’s going to happen?”

“Father, I can’t turn it off!” Leia exclaimed, frantically pushing at buttons.

“What’s going to happen to Brendan?”

“Let me try,” Bail nudged Leia aside. He too tried the buttons, but the screen would not turn off. The Emperor must have overridden the controls so everyone would forced to watch. 

“What’s going to happen to Brendan?” Felicity’s voice had become hysterical.

Bail looked over to his head of security and got an idea.

“Oberon, give me your coat!” Bail ordered, and the coat was in his hands a second later. “Felicity, come here!”

Bail grabbed Felicity and pulled her into his embrace. He held her head against his chest, forcing her to look away from the view screen. Bail held her tight, trying to cover her eyes and ears as the footage played. Over and over Felicity asked what was going to happen to Brendan, and Leia cried in the corner.

“We’re almost there,” Bail said as the pod was inches away from returning to its place in the wall where they could escape the horrifying footage.

But they couldn’t get away fast enough.

* * *

_“Gentleman,” Brendan’s voice said over the footage, “at the end of the day I think we all can agree we just want peace.”_

**_BOOM!_ **

* * *

Felicity’s scream filled the Senate Chamber, reverberating off the walls as she sobbed uncontrollably at the sight of her brother being blown to pieces.

Many voices joined her – cries of outrage and horror – but the cameras of the media all turned to the desperate screams of the martyr’s sister.

Felicity clutched Bail like he was the only thing tying her to this life. His heart broken as Felicity screamed and cried for her beloved brother. He held her tight in a fatherly way that Alaric had never done, but Brendan had specialized in. Bail pulled Oberon’s coat over Felicity’s face, shielding her from the cameras. She should be able to have privacy in this moment, but Palpatine ensured she hadn’t.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Bail glanced over at the pod with Alaric Rhiaon. Alaric was on his knees, gripping the control panel for support as he sobbed. Tarkin stood next to him, awkwardly patting Alaric on the shoulder, looking like he wanted to throw either Alaric or himself over the edge of the pod.

Vader paid no attention to Alaric, his head turned to observe Felicity. Bail wondered if a little bit of Anakin Skywalker was peaking out in that moment. Could Vader sympathize with the grief Felicity Rhiaon was displaying? Was Vader reminded of Padmé Amidala’s death?

Then Vader’s head turned to look at Leia, and Bail lost all sympathy. He grabbed Leia’s arm and pulled her against him.

Bail hated when Vader paid attention to Leia. It always felt like a countdown to the moment he realized she was his daughter. Bail knew that someday he would have to tell Leia the truth, and when that time came, it was indeed the truth he would tell her. He wouldn’t say something stupid like Vader had killed Anakin. Leia would know that Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker was her father, Padmé Amidala was her mother, and that she had a twin brother named Luke.

But until that day came, Bail would not let Vader have her. Leia was far more Bail’s daughter than she would ever be Anakin’s. So as Vader looked over at their mutual daughter, Bail once more claimed his right to her as the father she shared a heart with, not the father she shared blood with.

_Click._

The pod had finished returning to the wall.

“Come on,” Bail urged the girls. “Let’s go back to my office.”

* * *

The media was waiting for them the moment they stepped out of the pod. Bail’s security team formed a wall around the Organas and Felicity in an attempt to give Felicity her privacy, but it was all for not. Felicity was so overcome by her grief that despite both Bail and Leia doing their best to hold her up, she didn’t have the strength to stand.

Felicity collapsed to the ground and sobbed in what would become an iconic display. The Martyr Brendan Rhiaon’s sister helpless on the floor of the Senate, sobbing uncontrollably over the murder of her brother by those dastardly Rebels.

Bail and Leia tried to get her to stand and come with them back to the office, but Felicity could not. Brendan was gone. Brendan, the joy of her life, her best friend, her brother who was more like a father to her, the man who taught her to tie her shoes, who camped in the backyard with her, who played both Stormtrooper and fairy princess with her.

Brendan, her everything, was dead.

And Felicity had watched it happen.

“Brendan! _Brendan!_ BRENDAN!” Felicity wailed on the floor of the Senate hallway as cameras flashed around her.

With tears streaming down her face, Leia dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her best friend. She held Felicity close, stroking her hair, and crying with her. Leia didn’t know if they would ever be okay again.

“Where is she?” a voice called down the hallway. “Where is my daughter?”

The crowd parted, cameras flashing wildly as Alaric Rhiaon made his way down the hallway.

His eyes locked on the girls on the floor and he cried out, “Felicity!”

Sniffling, Felicity looked up, her eyes as tears and snot streamed down her face.

“Daddy,” Felicity bawled.

Alaric couldn’t help but give a slight smile; it had been years since she called him that.

“Felicity,” Alaric said.

“Daddy!” Felicity called.

Leia felt a touch on her shoulder and looked up to see her father giving her a look. Understanding, Leia let go of Felicity and stood so Alaric could take her place.

“I want him back, Daddy!” Felicity wept as Alaric’s arms wrapped around her. “I want Brendan back!”

“I do too, Little One,” Alaric rested his chest atop her head. “I do too.”

They sat there in the hallway, crying in each other’s arms, the media lapping up every moment. All anger forgotten in that moment of mutual sorrow. There was no Felicity being an unprofessional mess in front of royalty. There was no canceled reservations and denial of roast leek soup. There was no lowcut dresses and being humiliated in front of the Emperor himself. Brendan was gone and all they had was each other. In that moment, Felicity didn’t care if her father was abusive, with Brendan gone she was just glad to have some family left.

And as Bail watched Felicity wordlessly excuse her father’s abuse, he felt like he was going to be sick.

But then things took an even worse turn.

“Why did they do it, Daddy?” Felicity sobbed in her father’s arms. “Why did those disgusting Rebels kill Brendan?”

Alaric’s gaze hardened, “Because they’re bad people with a twisted corrupt ideology.”

* * *

Fury filled him as he thought of how the Rebels had stolen his beloved Brendan. His little prince and heir. Alaric was more determined than ever to complete his Death Star so that he could find the Rebel base and blow them all to hell.

In that moment, my father found a new path. He didn’t feel strong enough to save my mother, and he hadn’t been able to save his son, but he still had me. And in that moment, he knew that he would do whatever it took to save me.

* * *

“We’ll get them, Little One,” Alaric vowed. “We’ll get those dirty Rebels and you’ll be happy again.”

“Promise me, Daddy,” Felicity begged. “Promise me, we’ll kill them all.”

Alaric pulled back, wiped a tear from her face and smiled, “I promise you, Felicity, we’ll kill them all.”

Felicity smiled and hugged him as tight as possible.

* * *

When Leia recounts this story, she likes to say that as she and her father watched me vow to kill all Rebels – Rebels including them – there was only one word that came to her mind.

* * *

“Crap.”


	9. Brendan's Funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brendan's funeral is a media circus, Vader helps Felicity with burial arrangements, and Brendan performs one final act of rebellion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ironic chapter centered around grieving the death of a loved one is dedicated to our beloved Princess, Carrie Fisher. Leia may have never been one of my favorite characters, but you brought a heart and soul to life that no one else could. While you will be missed dearly, take comfort in knowing that nothing can hurt you anymore.
> 
> Carrie Fisher
> 
> October 21, 1956 – December 27, 2016
> 
> “Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force.”

 

Operation Citadel

Chapter Eight

Brendan’s Funeral

* * *

Brendan was given a state funeral. An Imperial funded, _televised, **they declared the day a national holiday**_ state funeral.

Yeah, they were driving this propaganda to hell and back.

Planning a funeral is one of the hardest things you can ever do. Planning one with Imperial Officials constantly over your shoulders are even worse. Tensions run high and arguments ensue over what the deceased wanted versus what the survivors want versus what the Empire wants.

We were literally given the personal numbers for Tarkin, Vader, and the Emperor himself so that Father and I could plan the best funeral for Brendan possible. There were daily meetings where Father, I, Tarkin, Vader, the Emperor, and Ozzel met to plan said funeral. They were… interesting to say the least.

Father would constantly brag about how wonderful Brendan was. I would burst into tears at the slightest thing. Tarkin was strangely eloquent and determined to make Brendan some legendary martyr (this made a lot more sense when it was discovered Tarkin had ordered Brendan’s death.) Vader clearly did not want to be there at all, but I did feel every now and then that he was looking on me with a sympathetic gaze behind his emotionless mask. The Emperor was as terrifying and creepy as you might imagine (though I will admit he really nailed that smooth-talking, silver-tongued, politician act.) As for Ozzel, he was extremely twitchy, terrified that someone would discover that he had orchestrated Brendan’s death.

Yes, you may not have realised it, but in those meetings only Tarkin and Ozzel knew the truth about Brendan’s death. The Emperor I have my suspicions about, but Vader (I hate to admit) was innocent of that crime. He passed the issue of Brendan’s rebellion to Tarkin with the instructions to “deal with it” but certainly not ordering to execute Brendan. …Or at least that’s the story Luke fed me, claiming that’s what the ghost of Anakin Skywalker insists. I don’t think Luke would lie to me about what his father said, but I do think his father might fabricate details from time to time to save what little face he has left.

And for the record, yes it does creep me out that Luke can speak to the ghost of Darth Vader – sorry, “ _Anakin Skywalker_.”

Anyway, those funeral meetings were hell, and I honestly wanted to be anywhere but in those bickering matches. I remember what the biggest argument was over; how to deal with Brendan’s body.

When a person became an Imperial Stormtrooper, they had to sign a series of documents. It was your standard employment and military paperwork. Emergency contact, medical history, schooling transcript, banking information, license to own and operate a civilian firearm (Stormtroopers were never *technically* off-duty) and so forth.

But there was one document Brendan had to fill out that we never liked to acknowledge: The Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan. That was the paperwork that outlined exactly what Brendan wanted to happen were he to die on a tour of duty.

I was too young to know the specifics of most of it, and frankly, as his sister I really had no right to handling the business side of death when my adult father was still around.

But I remember discussing one point with Brendan: the method in which he wanted to be dealt with after death. Father wanted to bury Brendan (or at least the head and arm they had found) in a graveyard plot next to Dinah. But I knew that’s not what Brendan wanted; I knew he wanted to be cremated.

When I told Father this, he dismissed my request, and Tarkin backed up the idea of burial with turning Brendan’s gravesite into a memorial with a statue and everything. The flowers and music I was willing to compromise on, but not Brendan’s cremation. It was only when I had a complete emotional breakdown that anyone bothered to listen to me.

As I sobbed uncontrollably at a conference table in front of the most powerful men in the Empire (plus Ozzel) I told them the conversation Brendan and I had. I told them how he said he wanted to be cremated because in his spirit he was a pilot through and through. It horrified him to imagine being tied down, forced to stay in a place he hated for all of eternity.

I think it struck a cord with Vader. After an awkward silence in which the men just stared at me rather than – you know – comforting the sixteen-year-old whose brother had just been murdered, Vader spoke up. He had Brendan’s military file brought in and they looked through his paperwork. Sure enough, there was his request for cremation. Luckily, The Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan functioned as a legal will in cases where the deceased did not have one, so we were legally obligated to burn Brendan rather than bury him.

His urn is silver and tiny, about the size of one of those travel shampoo bottles. It was small because the only things they had to burn were his head and his arm. That later proved to be a very good for me as it was very portable. Now it sits on the mantle in our living room, surrounded by Holos of people we loved who have sadly passed away.

The urn was graciously presented to Father during the funeral for Father to keep with him no matter where he went. In the month that passed between Brendan’s funeral and this next part of the story, Father alternated having the urn on our fireplace mantle when he was home on Coruscant, and sitting in his office when he was on the Death Star.

Now, wait a minute, you say. Wasn’t Alaric on the Death Star when he died? Doesn’t that mean the urn should have been on the Death Star when Luke blew it up? How can it possibly be sitting on your mantle?

Um… We’ll get to that.

The funeral was very formal with dozens of speeches from Father, Ozzel, people who worked with Brendan, and even Tarkin at one point. Bail Organa gave a brief speech too, but I did not. It was too hard to find the words, and I had become very bitter over the circus my brother’s funeral became.

I kid you not, HoloMags literally had articles of best-dressed lists of attendants of the funeral (Leia won most of them.) Bail and Leia very kindly purchased the dress I wore from an Alderiaan designer, and Father on this occasion held his tongue because the cut was modest (like I would wear a plunging neckline to my brother’s funeral.) That dress sold out in twelve hours after I showcased it when arrived to _my brother’s funeral_.

I’m sorry, but I still get extremely pissed off when I think about that farce. God, there were HoloNews shows giving a live play-by-play, there were unofficial sponsors who catered and provided flowers and transportation out of “the goodness of their hearts” and totally not to get positive exposure. There were Brendan Rhiaon _fangirls_ with _–_ I shit you not _– **posters**_ saying We Love You, Brendan!

Sorry, just… give me a minute.

. . .

Okay, calm down, Felicity. You can do this.

…So to say I hated my brother’s funeral is an understatement, but before we can move on, there’s two points I have to touch on.

First is the fact that the Empire released all the footage and audio from Brendan’s death for the sake of “transparency.” That means, out there right now is public video of a bomb exploding my brother. And by God, did the HoloNews stations lap that up.

The Bombing of Faclov was a significant news story when we thought the Rebellion did it, but it became a defining historical moment when it was discovered that the Empire did it (and we’ll get to how they discovered that in a moment.) That means that every _freaking_ year, on the anniversary of Brendan’s death, every HoloNews station does a piece on it. And what is their favorite thing to do?

They _broadcast_ the footage of my brother’s horrifying death. For _years,_ every time I turned on the HoloNet on the day of my brother’s death, I was assaulted by image after image of Brendan’s body exploding. Of his head and arm flying off. Of the gore hurtling across the street. And for years, I couldn’t do anything but avoid the HoloNet on that day.

After the war ended, I actually sued twenty-seven HoloNet stations for invasion of privacy, broadcasting obscene imagery, pain and suffering, and forcing upon me undue emotional duress. I won the lawsuit and it led to the establishment of The Rhiaon Law, which states that a HoloNet station may not broadcast imagery of a real-life death without the express written consent of the victim’s survivors. Every year since then, some idiot usually forgets the law and broadcasts the footage. It doesn’t bother me as much anymore as I only once have accidentally witnessed some idiot news station broadcasting it (that was not a good day.) As for how I find out if someone broadcasts it, I annually hire a team to monitor stations for it, and when they find one, I send my lawyer after the station and get a nice little settlement.

It’s a… strange little source of income, but not dishonest or unethical. After all, the only reason I get that annual payout is that some idiot decides “hey, let’s broadcast the graphic death of a soldier on public HoloNews.”

What really does piss me off is when they pair it with the footage of my reaction to learning of Brendan’s death (you bet your ass that’s become touchstone footage for the anniversary of Faclov.) The money I get from suing for broadcasting Brendan goes into savings, but if you show my heartbroken scream of learning that my brother died in one of the most violent deaths humanly possible… Oh, Leia and I go shopping with the settlement money I got from you for unconsented broadcast of a minor.

And Leia is _not_ a thrifty shopper.

But there is one element to this carelessness concerning my brother that… kind of scares me. An element that has entered the picture now that I’ve become a mother. I can see Brendan’s death, and although I’m not fine with that, I’ve learned to handle it.

Let me tell you the story about how Luke learned about Brendan’s death. We had been friends for a few months, and had stupidly decided to date other people rather than realise what was standing right in front of us. Although, I take the blame for that. Luke actually planned to ask me out, and when he started to try, that was the moment I happened to tell him offhand that I had been dating someone for the last two weeks (we had been friends about three months at that point.) At the time, I was dating the man who would be my final boyfriend (well, final before the one I married) a podracer named Drystan.

Anyway, we were hanging out at… God, I can’t remember if it was Leia’s place or Luke’s… I think it was Luke, because Leia knew better than to be on a news channel that day. So we (Leia, Han, Luke, Ben, Lando, Alyla (who was on Coruscant helping Luke with some Rornian business, and yes that’s when her flirtation with Lando started) Chewie, and myself) were watching Drystan’s podrace on one of the major broadcast channels rather than the straight sports one. The race ended, Drystan won, and Lando and Alyla went to the store to restock our snacks (why were we surprised when those two hooked up?)

We had agreed to watch some other sports event or something (it was like five years ago, give me a break) but it wasn’t going to be on for an hour. So we didn’t change the channel and casually chatted and hung out with the HoloNews on in background. Then they started doing a piece on the Bombing of Faclov. I was uncomfortable but didn’t say anything as they played the piece.

Then they showed the footage.

I went catatonic. I stood there in front of Luke and/or Leia’s HoloVision set, staring at the footage. Tears glistened in my eyes, and I couldn’t move a muscle.

I remember whimpering the name Leia, and she realised what was going on. The next thirty seconds were a mad scramble. Leia yelled at Luke to turn off the set and for Ben not to look. Luke and Han were very confused, but when they asked questions, Leia just yelled at them to do as she said.

I whimpered her name again, rooted to the spot, my stomach dropping as I waited for the inevitable moment where Brendan died. Leia raced over to me and pulled me into her arms. She stroked my hair and shushed me, begging me not to look as a babbled nonsensically words like “Brendan,” “bomb,” and “make it stop.”

Luke and Han didn’t figure out what was going on, but Chewie did. I think he might have heard the words Faclov and Rhiaon and put two and two together. Or maybe he recognized me from the media spotlight I had been under after the Bombing of Faclov. Whatever the reason, he tried to come to my rescue. He swatted at Luke with his massive paw, forcing Luke to stumble towards the HoloVision set. Chewie then roared at Han (though I’m not sure what he was saying) as he grabbed Ben and pulled the young cub (as Chewie called him) against him, forcing Ben to look away from the set. Ben struggled in Chewie’s grasp, but Chewie wouldn’t release him.

It took Luke seeing the tears in my eyes to make him spring into action, but by then it was too late. Luke switched off the screen a few seconds after the explosion. My desperate scream filled the room as I fell to my knees and cried in Leia’s arms. It took several minutes for them to manage it, but Luke and Leia got me into the guest room where I cried in Leia’s arms for nearly an hour. When I calmed down, I asked her for some time alone and she left the room. A while later, Luke came in to check on me and we talked for a little bit. He didn’t push me into an explanation and respected my decision of whether or not I wanted to give one. I then told him the story that I am now telling you.

What I am afraid of is not that that could happen again, but that it will happen in front of my daughter. I don’t want Rey to see me like that, and I _never_ want her to see the image of her Uncle Brendan being blown into a million little pieces.

I’m sorry for the excessive detour, but I promise we’re about to get back to our story. There’s just one more thing we need to discuss about my brother’s funeral, and specifically the Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan.

During a soldier’s funeral, there is traditionally something called a “Presentation of Service.” The family of the soldier is presented three items by the soldier’s commanding officer. The first item, the Black Heart Medal of Honour (the medal presented to soldiers who die in combat) is presented collectively to the whole family. It’s the other two items they present that caused a bit of controversy at Brendan’s funeral. Sometimes it’s hard to decide if a soldier’s wife or child or parent or sibling should receive a certain item so they make the decision part of the Death in the Line of Duty Action Plan.

The two other items presented are the soldier’s helmet, and the soldier’s firearm.

The helmet is traditionally presented to the soldier’s wife, mother, or children (typically female.) The helmet represents that the soldier fought and died for the sake of that person. It is a symbol of protection.

The blaster is traditionally presented to the soldier’s eldest male child, or father. The blaster represents that the soldier is passing the duty to fight for a better future to the one they bequeath the weapon. It is a symbol of combat.

But here’s the thing about Brendan… he never was one for tradition.

* * *

Alaric and Felicity stood before a large crowd and were presented with Brendan’s Black Heart Medal of Honour in a velvet-lined, oak box with Brendan’s name carved onto the lid.

“Thank you for Brendan’s sacrifice,” Ozzel bowed his head as Alaric took the box.

“It is an honour to give it for the good of the Empire,” Alaric replied as he set aside the box and someone whisked it away to safety for the rest of the ceremony.

Felicity could barely withhold her frown for the cameras. She couldn’t help but feel disgusted by the thought that her father was so casual and even proud about Brendan sacrificing his life.

Ozzel stepped away from the Rhiaons and Tarkin took his place. Tarkin made a small speech about his connection to the family and that’s why he was honoured to do this next part. Then Brendan’s effects were brought forward for presentation.

The helmet was shining white. Brendan’s blood and brain matter has been meticulously scrubbed from the helmet. Felicity briefly wondered if it was even the same helmet Brendan had worn or if it had been replaced with a new one. She supposed it didn’t matter; as long as she had some reminder of Brendan.

The blaster was a standard issue Imperial firearm. It was a blocky, silver NN-14 with a compact grip, enlarged power core, reinforced frame, a safety switch, armored body shell, and flash suppressing/stabilizing muzzle. Not a weapon of beauty but it got its job done.

Tarkin went into his speech of the symbol of each item and how it was an honour to receive a soldier’s effects. But everyone was in for a surprise when Tarkin came to the end of his speech.

“When Brendan joined the military, he specified which person he would like each item to go to,” Tarkin announced. “These are the decisions he made.”

Tarkin looked to the uniformed Stormtrooper holding Brendan’s helmet and nodded.

The Stormtrooper took one step and held out the helmet to Alaric.

As the crowd buzzed with whispers, Felicity’s jaw dropped. She had fully anticipated the Stormtrooper holding the helmet out to her. But… Brendan wanted it to go to their _father_?

“What?” Alaric blurted out, equally confused. Like his daughter, he had expected the helmet to be presented to Felicity. That was the tradition; the helmet went to the female.

“Brendan said the following,” Tarkin looked down at the datapad on his podium. “ _I wish for my helmet to be presented to my father, Alaric Rhiaon. It is for you that I fight, and I wish that you look upon my legacy with honour. Forgive me, Father, for losing my life, and I only hope that I was good enough for you.”_

The crowd didn’t even bother to whisper as they conversed among each other. To present the helmet to one’s father was a _huge_ politic statement, and Brendan inadvertently did it in front of a Galaxy-wide audience.

Sputtering in confusion, Alaric accepted the helmet and shot Felicity a confused look. Felicity just gave him a sympathetic smile and shrugged. She had no idea either what game Brendan was playing.

“And the firearm,” Tarkin said loudly, getting the ceremony back on track. “Brendan Rhiaon asked that his NN-14 blaster, which he used to fiercely defend us from the treachery of the Rebel Alliance… be presented to his sister, Felicity Rhiaon.”

* * *

Silence.

There was nothing but silence.

It may seem silly to you that Brendan leaving me his blaster could cause such a scandal but you have to understand that it was about so much more than a blaster. It was a direct rebellion of tradition and a blatant challenge of the roles in our family. The Rhiaon family should have stood as follows:

Leader of the household: Alaric.

Defender of the household: Brendan.

Caretaker of the household: Felicity.

But with his actions, Brendan had declared dominance and changed the roles of our household. By giving me the blaster and Father the helmet, Brendan had pronounced our roles as the following:

Leader of the household: Brendan.

Defender of the household: Felicity.

Caretaker of the household: Alaric.

And that was not something to take lightly.

* * *

Felicity felt every eye on her as she timidly approached Tarkin. The silence of the gathered was thick and heavy as the young girl approached one of the most powerful men in his galaxy with confusion and fear. She kept her eyes to the ground as she walked forward, each step landing with a resounding thud and an endless echo.

When she came to a stop, it took her a few minutes to gather the courage to look up at him. Tarkin’s eyes were cold and clinical as he stared at her in an unending silence. Felicity wanted nothing more than to just make a run for home where she would crawl under the covers of her bed and never come out.

Then, finally Tarkin spoke.

“Your brother had a simple message for you,” Tarkin held out to blaster for Felicity to take. “He said, ‘ _Take this. Use it to fight for a better future for yourself and our family. Do not let me die in vain, and above all promise me that you’ll never give up. Open your eyes, Felicity. Realize who the enemy is, and never stop fighting for what’s right._ ’”

* * *

There was something more to Tarkin’s tone. I could never dismiss the veiled threat in his recitation. Brendan had kept his words vague enough for the Empire, but Tarkin knew the true meaning. He knew that Brendan was trying to get me to open my eyes and see that it was the Empire was the true enemy. Tarkin was forced to give me Brendan’s message as to Presentation of Service was too public for him to hide it. So he was forced to give me a subtle hint that there was something darker behind these words and warn me not to follow up on them.

Ultimately the threat was unnecessary; I still didn’t understand. I was still just a little too naïve, too optimism, too brainwashed by the Empire. I was so close to the moment where my life’s purpose would shift… but it was still too soon.

Yet something did shift that day. As I took my brother’s blaster – I blaster I keep at my side to this day – I felt something spark. That day, when the weight of Brendan’s blaster fell into my hand and onto my shoulders, I became a fighter. Self-defense was something I had been trained in, but from that moment I knew I had to become a soldier, a warrior, a defender to the household. I knew I had to honour Brendan’s legacy, and take up his fight for a better future.

But as I felt Tarkin’s cold, threatening eyes on my face, for the first time in my life… I wasn’t sure who the enemy was.


End file.
